


To Catch A Wolf

by Tamalain



Series: The Women of Thedas [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Future Fic, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-11
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-04-20 04:14:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 29,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4773086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tamalain/pseuds/Tamalain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taking place 6 months after Dragon Age: Inquisition's Trespasser, Lavellan tries to outmatch Solas. SPOILERS!- Includes information about DA:O, DA:II and DA:I and all the DLC. If you have not played the most recent Trespasser's DLC, avoid reading unless you don't care about spoilers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Into the Den

**Author's Note:**

> Set up for this world  
> Vivienne: Divine  
> Bull: Ignored meeting the Qunari so both the Chargers and Bull's allegiances are intact  
> Lavellan: female mage who romanced Solas and drank from the Well  
> Wardens were not banished and are now led by Loghain  
> Gaspard is on the throne with Brialla pulling his strings

It was dark. The wolf and the dragon sat calmly starring at one another. A disagreement had arisen and the tension was palpable. Things were becoming difficult.

* * *

Lavellan sat crouched over a small stream. She knew she was in the Fade and dreaming but the stream looked and felt like the one in the Free Marches. She and her cousin had played here many times during their childhood. It was a place of comfort. Small stones littered the stream’s banks and sparkled with quartz. Lavellan absently picked stones that she thought pretty and stacked them next to her right boot. She smiled. Here she still had two hands.

Suddenly, she felt it. It was soft and subtle. Had her mind not been acutely focused, she would have missed the shift entirely.

For the last 6 months she had come to the Fade and purposely sought out Solas. Sometimes she would call and he would appear briefly as if to ensure she was safe. Other times she would see him watching her in the distance. Each time he came as a wolf and each time he would vanish when she reached for him. At first she had been determined. Every night she would try. Try to talk to him. Run to him. She had to try to change his mind. Every time he vanished before she could utter a word. 

Despite his control in this world, he caused a slight ripple when he appeared. It was like a slight stirring in the air. She had learned to sense the shifts in this world. She knew he would come. He came every few nights as if he needed to catch a glimpse. What had Cole said while they were chasing Solas and the Qunari through the series of Eluvian? “It hurts him not to be near her.” She had not thought much of it at the time but in the following months, Cole’s words had proven true. On retrospect, she frequently had seen a distant wolf in her dreams ever since she closed the breach.

The stone pile toppled on her toes. One by one she began stacking them in towers of 4 at regular intervals. As she built her towers, she cast her eyes from side to side. Careful not to look up and announce she knew he was here. Was he hiding? This time she was trying a different approach. After six months of reaching for him, she held back. Would he come closer? Did he prefer for her not to see him so he could watch her at his leisure? On the rare occasion when they made eye contact there was a depth of emotion behind his eyes. Almost as if he sometimes needed her to look at him. These looks were fleeting.

“I will never forget you.” He had said before he left her. Part of her wailed to think he felt the same about her but chose another path. Part of her cheered that he did feel the same way about her and chose to let her know. But a small part of her, a part of which she was ashamed, calculated how to use it to her advantage. It gave her a window however small to try and influence him. She could try to be the wedge between him and his plan.

There was movement to her right further up the stream. As silent as a shadow, a wolf moved from the high grass along the river and padded its way to the water. So, he wanted to be seen today. She only had a moment to act. She could no longer pretend she did not see him and to ignore him longer would acknowledge she was up to something. She had practiced this over and over in her head.

As she slowly lifted her head and gaze to the great wolf, she said “There were bodies in the library.” She met his gaze. There was a pause in the wolf as if he was thinking about what she said. She stood up and he vanished.

“Damn it.” She muttered. She should have stayed down. The question was how he would take her comment. With Solas, it was impossible to say. He was clever and sloppiness could not be tolerated. She sighed and allowed herself to be pulled from the fade.

 

 

She awoke in a small ship’s berth that smelled of wet wood and bodies. Cassandra was coming in through the door carrying two mugs of stale ale. She was no longer dressed in her Seeker armor. Instead she wore leather breaches, a white loose tunic and a matching leather vest. Around her waist sat her sword belt but the quarters were too cramped to allow her to carry her weapon.

“I’m going to have words with Varric after this.” She said with disgust ringing in her voice. Handing Lavellen the battered mug, Cassandra sat down on the opposite bunk.

“He swore it was secure. And, he was able to get us in and out of Kirkwall without notice.”

The Seeker glared into her ale. “He said he would arrange safe and comfortable passage but this…” She gestured around her “is a stye fit only for pigs. The crew is undisciplined and wallow in drink and filth and the captain…”

“Admiral, actually.” In walked the ‘Admiral.’ Plunging blouse and a skirt that caused Lavellen to blush for her. Isabella had no shame as she sauntered confidently into the berth. She was apparently an old friend of Verric’s and had some sort of relationship with the Champion. She even boasted that she met the Hero of Ferelden. Lavellen was doubtful of this half dressed woman but she had taken them on no questions asked. Admiral Isabella towered over the sitting Cassandra.

“And since you don’t like it sweetie, it’s time to get off.” Cassandra stood up and was an inch away from Isabella’s face. The Admiral did not budge.

“Is that a threat, _Admiral_?”

Isabella gave her a charming smile. “Nope. It’s time to get off. We’ve arrived.” She winked at Lavellen and strode out of the room before Cassandra could let out a snort.

Lavellen smiled to herself and gathered up her belongings. “What do you think Cullen would say if he knew his new bride associated with the Admiral?”

“Don’t tell him.” Cassandra retorted emphatically. “His life has been hard enough without _that_ as well.”

Their former commander had been reunited with the Hero after quite a dramatic run in with dark spawn about a year after the breach closed. She had known that Cullen had been the templar for the Hero during her time in the Circle but had not known that there had been a mutual attraction.

The two wrapped themselves in cloaks and headed to the deck. The dawn had barely cracked as the two women emerged. The air was cool and smelled of salt.

Isabella was on deck giving orders mainly by hand gesture. Everyone was silent. The lights had been doused and the ship crawled along the rocky coast towards the long piers. In the distance, a single light could be seen. It was red and making its way towards them.

Lavellan walked to the railing and heard a series of low whistles which were answered by one of the men in the rigging. The light turned into a ship with a strange glowing crystal on its bow. It came to on the starboard side. Isabella indicated for them to make their way to the rope ladder that was thrown to the waiting boat. The two women looked at each other and threw their belongings into the boat below. Cassandra made her way over the rails quickly. Lavellen gave Isabella a small wave of thanks. Isabella gave a flamboyant bow in response.

The ladder was difficult without her left hand but she managed. Two dark cloaked figures sat at the stern. Cassandra eye them suspiciously. There were no oars. The boat smoothly pulled away from the ship and propelled itself silently towards the shore.

“Magic” Cassandra cursed under her breath.

“Remember where you are.” Lavellan chastised. She looked up to the fast approaching spires that reached to the sky like daggers.

“So” she mused, “This is Minrathous.”


	2. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A happy welcome and reunion for Lavellan as the party's plans begin to take form.

Lavellan was exhausted though it was still early in the day. The boat had skirted the island for what seemed like hours until they had come to a tiny cave at the base of an inlet. Small and dark, it was easily missed unless one knew where to look. Appearing as a shadow cast from the nearby rock, the cave barely stood high enough to allow the boat and its passengers through forcing the riders to duck to avoid hitting their heads.

Inside the cave, dark channels snaked out in every direction creating a confusing labrynth. After a few turns, Lavellan would never have been able to get them out again. The only light came from the small glowing crystal that shone a bloody light onto the dark walls. ‘How very Tevinter’ Lavellan thought to herself. 

After hours of travel, the little boat finally started to slow down. The last channel they had turned into widened and Lavellan felt the ceiling vault upwards though she could not see it. A splashing sound caused her to turn in her seat at the prow of the boat. In the dim light, she could see steps rise from the water leading up to a large platform. Both were carved from the black rock around them polished to a shine. 

The boat moored up to the lowest step without moving and with no anchor. Cassandra appeared unnerved by the whole thing and shook her head. 

“Is this our stop?” She demanded of the two cloaked figures. Neither had moved or made a sound the entire journey. To answer her, the cloaks fell into themselves revealing nothing. The yards of fabric lay in a pool on the bench completely lifeless. 

Both Cassandra and Lavellan gasped at the same time. The sharp sound of clapping from the platform shattered the silence. Dorian, dressed in yards of red and black silk, emerged from a magically appearing doorway in the rock face. With a smug grin on his face, he was obviously very pleased with himself. 

“Come now, ladies. We can’t have you gasping and gaping at simple parlor tricks here in Minrathous.” He took the steps down to the boat and offered a hand to the Inquisitor. “People will think you provincial bumpkins from the wilds. I won’t be able to take you anywhere.” 

Lavellan smiled. “I _am_ a bumpkin from the wilds, Magister Pavus.” She took his hand and allowed him to help her up. “I’ve spent most of my life in the woods, drinking from streams and running barefoot in the grass. How much more provincial could I be?”

“Nonsense. You’ve become quite the sophisticate since founding your little group. Well, by southern standards that is.” 

Cassandra handed Lavellan’s bag to her and allowed Dorian to help her out of the boat as well. Standing on the landing, she started to remove her hood. “Dorian..”She began. 

“Not here, my friend.” Dorian said quickly as his hand caught Cassandra’s wrist. It suddenly dawned on Lavellan that he had not used their names nor discussed anything that could have identified them. Also there were no servants here. From the stories she had heard, Magisters didn’t even pour a glass of wine without the aid of a servant or slave. A quick look around showed that the landing had not been used in sometime. Debris had scattered across the platform and the stairs showed growth from various sea creatures making their homes on the surface. 

Lavellan cocked her head to the right as she looked at Dorian. He gave a wink and headed towards the doorway. The women followed suit. As soon as they walked through the entrance, a slab of stone rose up and sealed the way behind them. Simultaneously torches lit themselves revealing a narrow and heavily cob webbed passage. 

Dorian was already on the move forcing them to jog to catch up. As they walked through the corridor, the smooth-hewn rock rose in a gentle incline while torches lit and extinguished themselves to provide just enough light to illuminate their passing. The amount of magic in this place was breath taking.

Since arriving in Tevinter, the veil had thinned. Lavellan could feel it. So much magic used and spirits summoned that it had weakened the barrier. ‘If Solas needs to break through the veil, this would be the place to do it.’ She thought to herself.  The Imperium had plundered the south devouring every sliver of elven magic it could find. Hundreds of powerful artifacts and tomes tucked away in museums and Magisters’ personal collections, several of which, according to the Well, could aid Fen’Harel in his quest to tear down the veil.

The passage ended abruptly into another wall. Dorian pricked his finger and touched the door. A pin sized hole appeared and Dorian peered through it.  After a moment, he took the bleeding finger and traced a pattern on the wall. The stone lowered into the floor revealing a large bed chamber with high ceilings, frescos and a sitting area. From one of the chaises a figure stood up. It was a man dressed in a similar style as Dorian but he was clean shaven. He was also quite large. He reminded Lavellan of a slightly smaller version of that bastard Iron Bull. She still became sick to her stomach when she thought of him, and she could not guess how Dorian had felt when he learned of Bull’s betrayal. 

The party entered the room as the stone wall returned to its original place revealing a very large and grandiose mirror, which unfortunately showed Lavellan how bedraggled she looked. Dorian and the stranger were talking quietly between themselves. The other man nodded and strode out of the room closing the door behind him. 

“Now?” Cassandra asked. 

Dorian whirled around as if he had forgotten they were there. “Yes, Seeker. We are free to speak here.” 

The two women removed their cloaks and put down their bags. Every inch of her was stiff from sitting on that boat. Cassandra stretched her back while Lavellan avoided looking in the mirror again. Dorian must have noticed. 

“Yes, Inquistor, you look like a drowned cat but never fear. A bath and clean clothes will put you right again.” 

Lavellan brought her hand to her face. She could feel her hair clinging to her head and neck, which meant her ears were sticking out like blades. 

“Well Dorian” said Cassandra “what is the situation here?”

“The situation is complicated as it always is in the Imperium. We have elven servants and slaves a plenty in Minrathous and every one of them a possible agent of our wolfish friend or a Qunari spy. That’s what happens when you oppress people for so long. They all line up to kill you when they get the chance.”

It was true. The elves flocked to the Qun as a way to escape enslavement in Tevinter and abuse in south. As for Fen’harel, he was trying to return the elves to power. Neither human nor dwarf benefited from that. She had noticed on Isabela’s ship, the crew had been entirely human as had the individual she had seen helping them sneak through the Free Marches. It made her sad. 

“Dorain, who was that man who was here?”Lavellan asked. 

“That was a dear friend and we will leave it at that. The less everyone knows of one another the better. There are many of us here that are generally terrified of the prospect of the veil coming down. Some due to chaos and death it could bring, but mainly…..” Dorian trailed off for a moment looking thoughtful. “If the elves are returned to power, many Magisters believe they will see a reckoning for the injustices we’ve brought on the elven people. Can’t say that I blame them.” He gave a small smile to Lavellan. “As long as our goals coincide with the Magisterium’s, you should find allies here.”

“Good. When do we meet them?” Solas was already more powerful than any mage she had ever seen. If they were going to counter his spells, they needed as many mages as possible. Tevinter was the only place in Thedas that had meticulously studied ancient elven artifacts and learned some of their techniques, and Minrathous housed the most powerful items. It also meant it was a likely target for Fen’Harel. Was he here? 

“What? Meet the Magisters?” Dorian said in an amused tone. “No, my friend. You shall not meet the Magisters. At least, not any time soon. Leave them to me and my people. You will find that you’ll be far too busy to bother with them.”

“Then why are we here? You said we were needed urgently.” Cassandra was losing her patience. She had not slept well on the ship and Lavellan had heard the woman’s stomach growl on more than one occasion. Sleep deprived, hungry and frustrated, the wear of the voyage was starting to show through. 

“Calm down, Seeker. I would not have called you come here if you were not needed. Minrathous seems to be the epicenter of activity of late and we must be cautious to prevent alerting our enemies. I brought you both here to help gain some new allies.”

“But not Magisters.”

“No Seeker, not Magisters.”

“Then who?”

“Tell me Seeker, who has much to lose with the veil being torn asunder?”

The two woman looked at each other in confusion.

“Everyone does.” Lavellan started. “The destruction of the veil could kill thousands. Demons pouring through and the shear surge of magic…”

“Exactly!” Dorian interrupted. “With the veil torn, a ready access to magic will be everywhere. Mages will not have to reach through the veil to channel its power.”

“Dwarves.” Lavellan answered. Orzammar’s entire economy was based on the lyrium trade with Tevinter its largest consumer. If mages no longer needed it to bolster their mana, the dwarven empire would collapse. 

“Dwarves!” Dorian echoed. He turned to Cassandra. “And where is the largest dwarven embassy?”

Cassandra raised a single eyebrow. “Minrathous.”

Dorian beamed with pleasure. He turned to a small marble table that held a pitcher and several glasses. He poured three glasses of wine and handed one to each of them. He raised his glass as to toast them. 

“Ladies, welcome to Minrathous.”

Cassandra sighed and looked at Lavellan with a sad expression. “I truly would prefer fighting a dragon.”

*                  *                      *

The dragon watched the wolf pace back and forth. Things were progressing well and he always thought best while pacing. His thoughts raced as he spun his web and pulled its threads to maneuver things into position.  For now, the dragon watched and listened. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Erin and Kent for helping proof read.


	3. Negotiations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A meeting at the Dwarven Embassy leads to new and disturbing information.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. It's been a busy week. Thanks again to my sister for editing.

Dorian’s idea of a bath and clean clothes involved an hour long ritual of steaming, scrubbing and soaking followed by a complete wardrobe change for both women. Cassandra grimaced at the cut of her senior servant livery, while Lavellan slipped on the simple black tunic and breeches of a slave.

“Why is everything in Tevinter black?” grumbled Cassandra.

“At least yours has gold embroidery,” Lavellen said looking down at herself. “I look like furniture.”

No sooner had they finished dressing when Dorian came bustling in with a young mage trotting at his heels carrying a bag. Dorian looked them both over approvingly stopping only to adjust Cassandra’s collar.

“All right ladies. Do remember to be at your most subdued. You _are_ the owned help, after all.” He gave a pointed look at Cassandra. “Rufus!”

The young mage stepped forward handing the, thankfully, light bag to Levallan. “I apologize, Inquisitor, but it wouldn’t do for anyone but the elven slave to carry the bag. People would notice.

“My friend here is the latest of a long line of very competent Laetans. Just important enough to get you access without the rank to be noticed.”

“No ancient Magister connections,” Rufus added at seeing Lavellan’s confused look.

“In Minrathous if you want something done discretely, get a Laetan to do it,” Dorian smiled. “You best get started. It wouldn’t do to keep the ambassadors waiting.” He paused for a moment before adding, “I recommend staying away from the ale. I hear they put dirt in it.”

 

Twenty minutes later, Lavellan found herself lugging the bag over her right shoulder as she trailed Rufus through the labyrinth that was Minrathous’ markets. Both women walked respectfully behind the young mage with Lavellan bringing up the rear.

The streets were filled with people pushing and shoving to buy all manner of goods. Somehow, Rufus maintained a clear space around him but Cassandra and Lavellan were not so lucky. Lavellan felt elbows and shoulders smacking into her frequently harder than they needed to be.

Several twists and turns later, the streets began to broaden and they emerged on Three Imperator’s Square. For the first time, Lavellan understood why the Imperium considered itself the epicenter of the world. Monolithic domed buildings and towering spires lined the square blocking the view of the sky. Some structures were ancient with silvery magical threads winding their way around the crumbling stones to prevent them from falling down. At one corner stood the Circle of Magi carved with a large dragon emerging from what looked like Lake Calenhad. At the other end sat the Argent Spire home to the Black Divine. Between the two the Imperial Senate sprawled the length of the square. With its heavy stone walls and large windows, the Senate looked like a large beast looming over the square staring across to two giant granite dwarves that stood guarding the entrance of the Dwarven Embassy.

Rufus gradually eased the trio towards the stone dwarves. Unlike the markets, Rufus stopped frequently to let other mages and their escorts drift by before proceeding. None of the other mages even looked in their direction nor did their servants. No one seemed to notice as they entered the embassy. Down several flights of marble stairs the embassy stretched for miles underground. The walls held jeweled reliefs and the floors were inlaid with mother of pearl and veins of lyrium.

A dwarf wearing the insignia of the embassy approached Rufus who gave him a small chip. The dwarf looked at the small metal circle before leading them to a small receiving room at the end of a hall. The door slid shut and locked behind them.

“A pleasure to see you again, Inquisitor.” From the shadows, a red headed dwarf with a scar down the left side of her face stepped forward.

“Scout Harding! It’s good to see you again.” Lavellan smiled dropping the bag. “Though, I’m no longer Inquisitor.”

“Beg your pardon but you _are_ the Inquisitor and that’s what you’re known as down here. The dwarves place a lot of emphasis on status even though King Bhelen’s reign has softened those divisions.”

“King Bhelen has ruled absolutely, I understand since disbanding the Assembly.” Cassandra bluntly stated.

“That’s true Seeker, but he has expanded trade with the surface and Orzammar has flourished. The threat against the lyrium trade has caused a stir. You’ll…..you’ll have to see for yourself.”

During the conversation, Rufus had begun pulling out a change of clothes for the party from the bag. He handed Lavellan the formal red uniform of the Inquisition. “Can’t have the Inquisitor looking too shabby” he quoted with a smile. Dorian was not about to let his friends look like poor relations. Rufus and Harding stepped through the hidden door that Harding had entered allowing the two women to change.

Appropriately dressed, Harding led the three through the hidden corridor to a large, finely furnished chamber. A carving of an Archon and a dwarven king clasping hands in friendship stretched across the ceiling. In the center of the space, a large wooden table carved in the style of old Tevinter style sat with three finely dressed dwarves sitting on the far side.

A dwarven servant stepped from an alcove, “Inquisitor Lavellan accompanied by Seeker Cassandra Pentaghast and Laetan Rufus of house Cervius, representative for the Lucerni.” Harding’s name was noticeably left out as she stepped back to allow the rest forward.

Rufus turned to Lavellan, “Inquisitor, may I present Ambassador Algrun representing the Mining caste, Ambassador Ogner representing the Warrior caste and …” Rufus paused clearly puzzled by the presence of the third dwarf.

“Lord Vartag Gavorn representing his Highness King Bhelen of House Aeducan.” Vartag said.

“Sir, we were not expecting the right hand of the king himself here.” Rufus gave a slight bow.

“ _Typically_ , the crown has trusted his ambassadors to do their work on his behalf.” Huffed Ambassador Ogner.

“The king continues to rely heavily on the proficiency of the Ambassadoria to represent dwarven interests,” Vartag interjected. “However, this visit and what it represents is anything but typical.”

Lavellan’s eyes darted between the three. Ogner was clearly unhappy at Vartag’s presence. Was he resentful of the direct oversight or was there something more? Algrun seemed amused at the two men’s animosity. Ambassador Ogner seemed to sour further by the minute and turned his frustration towards the Inquisitor.

“Inquisitor, Magister Pavus has taken _months_ to arrange this meeting forcing us to go through two or three intermediaries to ensure the secrecy of this meeting. These fantastical stories he’s related…”

“Please understand, Inquisitor,” Ambassador Algrun cut in forcing his colleague rage in silence. “Should this information about rogue elves pulling down the veil be true, our whole economy could collapse. Without mages needing lyrium, we would enter into a large trade deficit that would push the merchant and mining caste into poverty and stop the flow of goods into Orzammar.”

“No one is doubting your word,” Ambassador Ogner seemed to have momentarily regained his composure. “But is tearing down the veil even possible? We have had a huge increase in contracts supplying the Tevinter army due to the escalations with the Qunari. Priorities are important and to run after this wild…”

“Frankly,” Algrun interjected again “the petition put forth by Magister Pavus to only allow lyrium orders to be placed and received by registered _human_ mages would create a bottle neck in exporting our goods. It could lead to delays in shipments and a back log of inventory. None of which is a problem if the threat is real, of course.”

“You’re forgetting our latest intelligence, ambassadors.” The addition from Vartag as he stroked his beard seemingly uninterested in the conversation, but his words made the two dwarves visibly flinch.

Ogner fumed. “There’s no hard evidence that the two incidents are even—”

“Wait, what?” Lavellan leaned forward her interest peaked.

Algrun shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Recently, we’ve received complaints from Magisters being billed for shipments they never requested.”

“The requests were perfectly legitimate by _Assembly_ approved guidelines,” boomed Ogner.  “Magister slaves can make and receive lyrium orders on their masters’ behalf. Slaves handle most of the day-to-day business beneath the Magisters’ concern. Not meeting our customers’ needs is bad for business.”

"And when those elven slaves disappear with the lyrium leaving their masters’ with the bill?” Vartag raised an eyebrow looking pleased with himself. “Not taking immediate action to prevent more unauthorized shipments is also bad for business.”

Vartag stood staring menacingly down on the two ambassadors.

“The Ambassadoria will support the petition, Ambassadors. This is a priority. Discretely inform the other ambassadors of the situation. Any dwarf found turning over lyrium orders to elves will be sent to the Deep Roads. That’s a direct order from King Bhelen.” As he said the last line, he threw a long parchment on the table with the royal seal. Ogner continued to steam and Algrun looked thoughtful.

“The King demands what he wills.” Ogner spat out to the piece of paper and stalked out the door. Algrun gingerly picked up the order and looked through it. Standing to follow Ogner, Algrun turned to Lavellan “It appears you’ve convinced the King already. Does he know something we don’t?” Before she could respond, Vartag nodded at him to leave.

After the door had closed, Vartag looked back to the group. They had been standing is silence during the exchange among the dwarves. Vartag indicated they should sit at the other end of the table.

“The King does know more than the Ambassadoria. Do you remember Shaper Valta who accompanied you on your visit to the Deep Roads?”

 “Shaper Valta wanted to understand the Titans and recover forgotten lore. We found a whole settlement of dwarves covered in lyrium. Has something happened?” Lavellan asked.

“She was found by one of the Legion of the Dead.” He gestured with his hand and the servant from earlier opened another door.

“Olga Hammerhands of the Legion of the Dead.” In walked the widest dwarf Lavellan had ever seen. She had two thick red braids falling from either side of her head and a large two handed hammer that was bigger than she was. She sauntered in and winked at Rufus.

“Olga, may I introduce…” Vartag started.

“Yeah, I know who they are. The one armed elf is the Inquisitor, right?”

Cassandra and Harding simultaneously sucked in their breaths but Lavallen smoothly walked forward. “I am. What did you learn from Valta?”

“I found her just standing in the middle of one of the tunnels. Waiting… like she knew I was coming. Gave me quite the history lesson too. Branka’s butt, she rattled on about Titan blood protecting the dwarves from magic before the veil went up.” The obese dwarf shook her head making her braids waggle.

“Give me the short version.” Lavellan had the sinking suspicion that things were about to get complicated.

“Just what I said. Lyrium in those ancient dwarf armor, the Deep Roads, all permitted by the Titans to protect us from Fade’s power. I guess our race couldn’t handle all that magic. It’d burn you up and send you skyward.” Olga rubbed a tired hand over her face. “Flaming ancestors could a girl get a mug of ale around here? Preferably by someone young, attractive, and male?”

The request was lost on the quiet group. More and more, it seemed that legends were coming to life.

“So the dwarves would literally fall into the sky.” Harding whispered.

“Olga, we found a Qunari lyrium mine during the attempted invasion. It was a wellspring of unending lyrium. Could this be a Titan?” Lavellan asked.

“A sick Titan, but yeah.” A female dwarf handed Olga large tankard of ale. Olga looked slightly disappointed before gulping down the beverage.

 “We found mention of a war between the elves and dwarves in this … sick Titan.”

“Yup, it was forgotten because the elves lost the war. They attacked the Titan to get at its lyrium to pull down the veil.”

“Do you know how they planned to pull down the veil?”

Olga pulled out a piece of paper from her a hidden pocket. “With these.”

Lavallen took the piece of paper and unfolded it. Cassandra, Rufus and Harding crowded behind her to look. The paper showed a diagram with a picture of an elven artifact. All but Rufus gasped. Harding covered her mouth with her hands. Cassandra swore under her breath and Lavallen squeezed her eyes shut just for a moment.

_Solas, how could you!_


	4. A Secret Revealed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A secret revealed will shake Lavellan's faith in Solas and a visit from an old friend brings comfort.

Lavellan opened her eyes and looked at the drawing again as her heart dropped into her stomach. There could be no mistake.

“He was using us from the start!” Cassandra fumed. “The amount of time and resources we poured into activating these all across Thedas and for what?!” 

“I helped locate these.” Harding said softly. “Inquisitor, I thought these were supposed to help strengthen the veil?” Harding looked like she was about to cry.

_I trusted him_. Lavellan thought before turning to Harding. “That is what we were told.” She couldn’t believe it. Solas pushed the line when it came to the truth. He had been adamant he’d lied only by omission when he revealed himself to her. But boldly lie like this? Was there more? How else had he manipulated them… _her_?

Rufus, who’d been listening intently, finally asked, “So, these things have been activated across Thedas?”

Lavellan couldn’t bring herself to answer. She simply nodded.

“By Inquisition forces?”

She nodded again. “Well, can they be deactivated?”

A sick feeling began crawling into Lavellan’s stomach.

“Not that I know much ‘bout elfy magic stuff,” Olga spoke up. “But, from what Valta told me they needed a certain type of magic to be used.”

Phantom sensations from a hand that no longer hung at her side pricked her mind. A hand that used to control a certain type of elven magic. She looked down at her stump of an appendage to reassure herself the hand was really gone.

Cassandra noted the movement. “I don’t think that will be an option.” Cassandra said slowly. ‘The magic used to set the wards has been taken from us.”

“Oh.”

Vartag leaned back in his chair. “Valta gave us some more information about the war and these” he waved his hand at the paper in Lavellan’s hand, “items. Most of it is in ancient dwarven which we’ve had translated. The material point is the ancient writings seem to indicate that dwarves couldn’t live on the surface before the veil. I’m not sure if it is due to our resistance to magic or whatever.”

“All us surfacers would die. Even if we could get word out, not all of us would make it underground in time.” Harding said shaking her head.

“Without the lyrium trade, Orzammar has precious few resources outside of weapon smithing that it could export.” Cassandra thought aloud. “They couldn’t even bring items to the merchants on the surface. They would be completely isolated and dependent on humans and elves to run the trade and bring in food.”

Nodding, Vartag added “Now you see why King Behlen isn’t content to sit and let a bunch of dignitaries handle the situation.”

“It raises another question.” Lavellan spoke up. She had finally composed herself. “If the veil holds back the power of the Fade, then what are its effects on everyone else. I had assumed it just held back spirits and the elven gods as well as preventing most people from accessing magic.”

“Did Solas mention anything else to you about the veil?” Cassandra pushed but gently.

“He said that we were all like Tranquil to him unable to connect with the Fade. It does imply that the effect is more than just the ability to wield magic.” While the world burns in the raw chaos, I will rebuild my people. She had assumed demon invasion …

“You and this Solas had a thing, huh?” Olga said bluntly. She received sharp looks from the women. Olga clearly didn’t care and took another swig of ale. “Well, he’s probably here in the city if you’re interested in a meet up.”

“How do you know that?” Cassandra demanded. Olga smiled smugly to herself as she looked into her ale.

“It would be smart, Olga, to be forthcoming with our friends." Vartag threatened but she just laughed at him.

“I’m suppose to be dead remember. What do I care? I’ve already been sent to the Deep Roads. What is Behlen going to do, recall me?” Vartag glowered but before he could answer Olga turned to the Inquisitor.

“Because that elven thing has a control device. Something that can get them to simultaneously work across Thedas. It’s called the Binder.”

“What’s the Binder and where is it?” Lavellan asked quickly. There was no good reason for him to be in the city.

“I told you it controls any activated orbs but the elves lost it in that war I mentioned. Little pointy-eared freaks didn’t expect much from the dwarves since they couldn’t use magic. Our warriors proved them wrong. We kept the Binder. After we allied with Tevinter and they swept south, we gave the Binder as a gift to one of the Magisters. And guess where she took it.”She smirked at the group.

“Minrathous.” Cassandra said dryly. “Everything ends up here.”

“Orzammar is committed to stopping this threat, Inquisitor.” Vartag started then gave a sly look over at Olga downing the rest of her ale.

“Legionnaire Hammerhands will be staying here as our liaison to you until the situation is resolved.” Olga made a choking-squawking sound as she sputtered her ale. Before she could answer, the servant stood forward to escort them out of the chamber.

“Thank you, Lord Vartag for all of your help.” Inquisitor said.

“Best of the vein to you Inquisitor.”

 

 

When they returned to the chamber to change back into their servant clothing, Harding handed Lavellan a stack of papers. “Translations from Valta. Leliana wanted to make sure you got them.”

“Where is Leliana?”

"Currently, she’s in Orzammar. She received word from Warden Commander Amell that she had seen elven artifacts in Cadash Thaig. Apparently the dwarves there hid Arlathan elves from Tevinter. It cost the dwarves their lives. Leliana was looking for information at the Shaperate when Olga came in with Valta’s message.”

“She could’ve sent this all by raven.” Cassandra said. “Though it’s not that we aren’t glad to see you.” She added quickly.

“No, ma’am.” Harding answered. “Not after what happened before with the agents of Fen’harel and the Qunari infiltrating our ranks. Every move and piece of information is only given and sent by myself, Charter and Rector. Everything is delivered personally.”

“Secure but slow.” Cassandra noted.

Harding just smiled. “I’ll be remaining here a few days before heading to Dorian’s for an update. Good luck to you all.”

She left with Rufus as the two women changed. Another dwarven servant came in the main entrance and escorted them out a different way from the embassy.

 

It took over an hour for the two to wind themselves back to the secret door in the fish market. Cassandra led the way with Levallen, head down and bag over her shoulder, five steps behind. There were fewer people this time in the late afternoon. No mages to be seen, which explained why Rufus had refused to come back with them. The towering earthen wall that separated the market district and the Magister estates began to widen the closer they got to the shore.

Darting around carts, Lavellan saw a small alley with a sign of a fish sitting on its innards. Some old recipes required fermented fish guts. Judging by the lack of people going down the alley, it wasn’t a popular ingredient.

They turned down the alley and found it lined with doors. At the far end stood a door with a small red fish on it. The room behind the door housed a little desk covered in bottles and dried fish bits in front of a bookcase with more bottles of fish parts. Cassandra went to the bookcase, lifted three unremarkable bottles in a district order, and the bookcase slid open barely wide enough to let the two enter.

After two more rooms with puzzle keys, they were back in their hidden chamber buried deep in the artificial hill. Dorian was waiting for them.

“Good, you’ve returned. I was starting to think you were lost wandering the market. Well, did you enjoy the embassy? You know it is considered one of the Wonders of Thedas.”

"We didn’t go for the sights, Dorian.” Cassandra answered.

“It was lovely, but there’s a good chance Solas is in the city.” Lavellan interjected.

“Yes, I know.” Dorian responded. “Did you know, I met the stoutest dwarf I’ve ever met. She arrived on my doorstep asking for ale and pretty men. Fortunately, Rufus had arrived before she did and made introductions.”

“She came to the right house.” Lavellan teased.

“I do think I’m more than pretty, wouldn’t you say?” he winked back at her before turning serious. “I understand that you have some papers from that addled shaper, Valta.”

"Yes, they were translated but it is still gibberish to me.” Cassandra said as she handed the papers to Dorian from the pack. He poured over it for a while before looking up.

“Well, that little bastard.” Dorain’s face hardened. “Having us run over hill and dale thinking we were helping.” He shook his head. “I understand part of this. The wording seems to indicate that the ancient dwarven is actually an attempt to translate an elven description of how these contraptions work. I’ll have to work on this.”

He tucked the paper into his cloak.

“You’ve both earned a rest I think. A bite to eat is sitting on the table. I’ll leave you for now.” He started to walk away but Lavellan called out.

“Dorian, do you think your proposal will win approval in the senate?”

He barely paused. “I think not my dear friend. It should fail marvelously. Good night.”

And with that he was gone.

 

 

Levallen spent the next days turning over the revelation from the embassy. She had thought Solas had at least cared for her but the news had shaken her to her foundation. What else had he lied about? Was her relationship with Solas like Iron Bull’s with Dorian? A means to an end. She had never had the courage to ask Dorian how he had handled Bull’s betrayal.

“You are not sleeping well.” Cassandra mentioned one morning after breakfast. “You toss and turn like that wretched boat that brought us here.”

Levallen looked at her for a moment. “I’m worried. If I cross into the Fade and dream, I could potentially reveal some of our plan to Solas.”

"You’re worried about dreaming our new information. You’ve never had any concern before.”

“We’re in the same physical space which means there is a greater likelihood of us bumping into each other in the Fade. And since he does watch me….”

“He does what?!” Cassandra looked a little shocked. Suddenly Lavellan realized she had never told anyone about her attempts to communicate with him in the Fade. “He watches you? Does he talk to you?”

“No, he appears as a wolf in the distance but whenever I reach for him, he vanishes.”

Cassandra sat and chewed her food for a moments before slowly answering. “I think it is important for you to sleep well. It is possible he will think your dreams nothing more than dreams and it may work both ways. You may discover something of his plans.”

 

 

 

That night Lavellan allowed herself to fall into a deep sleep. Within seconds, she had drifted into the Fade.

It was warm and humid like lying in a sauna. Relaxed and sleepy, she found herself bathed in a weak filtered light. Birds sang in the trees and a perfumed scent hung in the air. Lavellan was lying on her belly on a cushioned couch in a room carved out of a large willow tree. The wooden walls were silvery and painted with faded images of various flowers. In front of her the tree opened up to look over a still pond encompassed by the tree’s branches. She recognized where she was. It was how she had always envisioned a home in Arlathan would have looked. She had made it up when she was young and the vision had become a place of refuge.

She sighed and laid her head between her outstretched arms. Her two hands interlaced their fingers. She smiled. A soothing voice murmured elvish in her ear. It was telling her the stories of her childhood, of the elven people before the fall. Two hands gently massaged her tight muscle on her shoulders and neck. Vaguely aware she was wearing little more than a sheet at her waist, Lavellan let herself melt into cushions. She knew the voice too and had imagined this very thing while living in Skyhold. It wasn’t the real Solas, which was for the best. For now, she could immerse herself in the fantasy and allow her spirit to relax. The Maker knew she needed a little rest.

Eventually, dream Solas stepped away and began preparing something in the small kitchen. Lavellan concentrated on picking out the individual bird songs she could hear in the trees.

“It wasn’t like this. Grander, impossibly delicate, spiraling…”

“Hello, Cole.” Lavellan murmured without opening her eyes. He had returned to the Fade after the dissolution of the Inquisition. Though she was happy to see him, she had no strength to move. “How’s the Fade?”

“Quiet. Like birds before the storm.”

“Great.” This was not helping.

“He’s not real”

“I know.” Dream Solas was bringing out lunch. That was nice.

“He hurts. You hurt. Seeing this hurts. He wants…..” He indicated around the room.

“Cole, I know you’re trying to help but he should’ve thought about that before lying to me and trying to destroy the veil.”

“He doesn’t want to hurt anyone. He wants to help.” Cole trailed off. “Always on the edge. How much to say? He wants you to see but doesn’t. He wants you to know but doesn’t. One slip. One fall and it’s all lost. Lost for a home and a heart.”

Dream Solas had set out the lunch and seemed to be annoyed at the presence of the third party but didn’t say anything.

“Cole, I’m busy right now. If you know anything about Solas’ plan to sunder the veil, then please tell me. Otherwise let me indulge a little.”

He was quite for a moment. “Nothing he said to you was untrue.” He whispered. “He let you see bits while keeping other bits hidden. The hidden bits bite.”

Lavellan lifted her head up and looked at the spirit. She smiled. “Thank you, Cole. That helps a little.” Suddenly a thought dawned on Lavellan and all the muscles in her body tensed. Somehow she was back in her battlemage armor as she brought herself up on her elbows.

_Seeing this hurts him._

Across the pond a quick movement blurred. She hadn’t even felt him arrive she had been enjoying her moment too much. She jumped up sending plates and food scattering across the floor but it was too late. He was gone.

“Cole, tell him he can’t do this. I know you speak with him. Tell him many of the dwarves will die.” She was yelling at a distraught Cole. “Please, what was lost is lost. The elves are partially responsible for their fate. Tearing the veil will not change what happened it can only destroy the future.”

Cole smiled weakly at her. “I will. As much as the loss of you hurts, the loss of what was lost hurts more.” With that, he disappeared.

“Cole!”

She felt herself being ripped from the Fade. Like a bubble rising to the surface of the water, Lavellan burst awake to find Dorian, Cassandra and Olga staring down at her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did anyone else ask themselves "wait why would he want to strengthen the veil if he wants to test it down?"


	5. Gathering Clues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New information comes to light while Lavellan deals with the emotional fallout from her romance with Solas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this one is so late. New job and a move prevented me from writing. Enjoy.

Twisted in her sheets, Lavellan looked from one face to another trying to get her bearings. It was Dorian’s hand, which still rested on her shoulder, that pulled her from the Fade. He looked genuinely concerned.   
“Are you all right?” He said in a gentle voice. “We heard you screaming for Cole.”  
“Given our most recent conversation, I thought you could be in danger.” Cassandra added.  
“Recent conversation?” Dorian looked quizzically at the Seeker. “What secrets are you two hiding?”  
“Nothing.” Cassandra said irritably.   
“Solas has been watching me from the Fade.” Lavellan shook her head. There, it was out. She wasn’t sure why she had been keeping it a secret. Embarrassment?   
“He’s been meeting you in dreams?” Dorian sounded shocked.  
“No, more watching from a distance. I see him briefly and then he’s gone. I’ve been trying to find ways to convince him to alter his plan.”   
Olga came up to the edge of the bed and placed an armored hand on her shoulder. “He comes and watches you in your dreams?” Her voice soft and reassuring.   
“Yes.”  
“Well, that’s…that’s very creepy.”   
“You’re not helping, Olga.” Cassandra reprimanded. The dwarf pulled away and threw her hands up in the air.   
“The city guard just arrested a guy last week who was doing the same thing from a balcony…”  
“It’s fine, Cassandra.” Lavellan swung herself out of bed. “I’m fine.” She walked into the dressing room and shut the door behind her. On the far end of the room, a tall mirror stood amongst the closets and chests. The reflection showed a small, tired elf with disheveled hair. The bare face, stripped of its vallaslin and clan connection, did not seem hers. Her missing arm an ever-present reminder of her lost power and position. Without her mark, she was nothing. Heartbroken and empty, Lavellan crumpled in front of her reflection and cried. The Dread Wolf had taken everything. 

***  
Everyone walked around her as if on egg shells. Dorian was his usual cheerful self but never mentioned the plan or the next step. Cassandra tried to find distractions and even offered to lend her the first book in Swords and Shields. Olga was mysteriously absent. No one mentioned the dreams or her locking herself away for hours. Lavellan spent the next few days like a puppet moving on strings, her mind far away. However, the outside world could only be held back for so long.   
Dorian entered into the women’s chambers one afternoon looking grim. He walked over to where Lavellan sat looking at maps and perched on the other end of the settee.   
“It looks like hard work does indeed pay off.” Dorian was trying to sound light. “We found the Binder.” Cassandra strode in from the next room.   
“You found it?” Cassandra called. She had been pacing like a caged tiger for the past two days. Waiting was not her strong suit.   
“Yes, in the possession of Magister Flavius of House Nerva. A proud line that stretches to the ancient dreamers of Tevinter who supposedly communed with Dumat himself.” He smiled at Lavellan. “Fortunately, he’s an idiot.”  
“Then why do you look worried, Dorian?” Lavellan asked.   
The smile dropped from his face as he stood up and paced around the room.   
“He’s an idiot but a dangerous idiot. One that thinks he’s smarter than he is and will over play his hand.” He looked back at Lavellan. “Why do you think Solas watches you from the Fade?”   
The question caught her off guard. “I don’t know. I had assumed he wanted to be near me.” That sick feeling was crawling back into her stomach. Even to her, her words sounded naïve. “Or, more likely, it could be to find information.”   
“You were calling out for Cole last week. Was he also in your dreams?”  
“Yes.”  
“Your dreams seem to be quite the popular place. What did the strange little spirit say?”  
It was embarrassing and Lavellan’s mouth went dry as she couldn’t get a sound out.   
“I see.” Dorian proceeded saving her from having to answer. “Some sort of cryptic message I imagine about how Solas is friendly and we should all trust him. But did he give any inkling that Solas’ feelings towards you were sincere?”  
“Yes.”  
“You are sure? It’s important.”  
“Dorian, what is this all about?” Cassandra interrupted. “How does badgering her about her relationship with Solas help us get the Binder?”  
“Yes, Dorian.”Lavellan responded. “Cole did say that Solas has feelings for me and he wants to be near me. I don’t think Cole would lie about that.”  
“No, nor do I, which is precisely why I’m asking. I need to be sure before…” Dorian trailed off. He came back over to sit next to Lavellan.   
“I wouldn’t ask you this if it wasn’t important.” He said again earnestly. “I have a plan to get you into the Nerva estate but it’s risky. I don’t want to put you into danger without an escape plan and a realistic expectation of this working.”  
“Dorian?”  
“How do you feel about being controlled by blood magic?”

***

Lavellan sat on a street corner with a hood over her face and bowl in one hand. Begging for coins, she listened to the whispers on the edge of the market district near the head of the false hill. It was the closest to the estate side she could go without rousing suspicion.   
From the other side of the market, Olga sat laughing and talking with the dwarves that sold their smithing wares. Though it appeared that she was half drunk, she kept one eye on Lavellan and another on an estate that could be seen just inside the district.   
With ornately carved columns and tall windows, the Nerva estate was one of the most prominent homes in Minrathous and it sat at the head of the district like a flag ship for all the mansions that sailed behind it.   
From the back door, elves darted in and out on business. Three walked right by Lavellan towards the market district whispering amongst themselves. Lavellan rattled her bowl pretending to be hoping for coppers rather than information. They were speaking Dalish.   
Looking up through her lashes she noted that none of them wore the vallaslin, but as they walked down the street, one did not properly defer to the humans in his way. Stopping short and glowering at the humans in front of him before slowly moving to let them through. One of the elves grabbed his shoulder and whispered  
“We cannot draw attention to ourselves. We are slaves here. The Shem will be suspicious.”  
The male elf didn’t respond but only looked at his two clan brothers and pushed on. Lavellan stood up slowly and began to follow them. She tried to keep a safe distance but it was difficult in the quagmire of people. She had to be submissive but if she left too much space, she’d loose them.   
They trailed through the fish market and made their way down to the switch back road that lead to the piers. The road was mostly empty and she couldn’t go down without drawing attention to herself. Staying on the overlook, she watched two of them go down the road. The third had vanished. She looked around and didn’t see him. It was the angry one who had left. She returned her gaze to the other two. They went to a small boat at the end of the last pier. They pulled out a heavily wrapped item. To most people it would have looked like a wrapped painting, door or mirror. But Lavellan recognized the shape. It has to be an Eluvian. It made the most sense.   
A hand grabbed her shoulder and another over her mouth. She was dragged into a small alley. No one payed any attention. Slamming her against the wall, the angry elf from earlier held a knife to her throat. She recognized him. He was younger than she but he was from another clan in the Free Marches that her people frequently traded with. The way his eyes widened he clearly recognized her too. She could have lashed out with her magic. Mind blast would have knocked him back but she stood there frozen. Could she kill a Dalish? She had turned her back on so much and lost everything.   
The young elf spat in her face. “Traitor, Lavellan! You’d turn against Fen’Harel and side with the shems. I should…”   
“Can I get a refill?” slurred a voice.  
The elf turned toward the voice as a steel tankard smashed into his face jamming his nose back into his cranium. With a sickening crunch, he collapse on the ground dead without uttering a sound.   
Olga smirked. “You got blood on my tankard.” Clearly sober, she wiped the bottom of the mug on the dead elf’s shirt.  
“Why did you do that?!” Lavellan yelled.   
“Oh, I’m sorry. Do you knife-eared twigs generally greet each other with knives to the throat?” Olga took a swig of the surprisingly filled tankard.  
The dwarf’s nonchalant demeanor made Lavellan even angier. “He was kin! I knew him; how could…”   
Olga punched the tankard into Lavellan’s stomach knocking her to the ground. The world spun as Olga bent over Lavellan.  
“What the hell is wrong with you, Inquisitor?” she whispered.  
“Excuse, me?” Lavellan hissed back  
“I heard stories about you and saw the fall out in the deep roads. Breaker of the Jaws of Hakkon, Destroyer of Adamant and Closer of the Breach. I was impressed, but if I’d known the Inquisitor was a weak willed, pathetic…”  
“How dare you!” She seethed. “ You have no idea what has happened.”  
“Guess what? I don’t care. We’ve got the possible end of the world and you’re having a crisis of confidence. What, is it the missing mark?” She motioned towards her stump. “The mark didn’t build the Inquisition. The mark didn’t save the Empress and it sure has hell didn’t stop the earthquakes in the Stone. That was all a little pipsqueak of a mage who refused to let the world treat her like casteless garbage.”  
Olga’s remarks hit home. Learning that the Inquisition had been infiltrated was devastating. Dissolving it had been the only safe thing to do. Then Solas revealing he was Fen’Harel had turned her entire world view upside down. She questioned every decision now. Not like before.   
Olga’s face softened but remained stern and Lavellan realized tears were rolling down her face. “When the ancestors knock you on your ass and those that you love stab you in the back, you got two choices. Lay down in the ditch and die or roll yourself out and move on.” Olga’s eyes went distant for a moment before refocusing on Lavellan. She held her hand out and asked “What’s it going to be, elf?”   
Lavellan looked up at the other woman. Whatever pain had caused her to join the Legion of the Dead, she’d clearly chosen to thrive. If Olga could do it, then so could she.  
“I’ve always hated ditches,” Lavellan said and took Olga’s hand.  
With one mighty pull, Lavellan was back on her feet. Olga let out a deep chuckle. “That’s what I like to see. Now let’s go raid Dorian’s wine cellar.”  
****

“There’s a magister that is seeking Flavius’ favor.” Olga said over dinner that night. “The Embassy’s been gossiping about it for days. He disgraced himself for starting a drunken brawl with Magister Galen over his wife.”  
“What happened?” Lavellan asked  
“Well,” Olga said wiping her face on the napkin. “After drinking seven tankards of ale, he starts feeling his oats. He saunters on up to the esteemed and 40 years older wife of Magister Galen and starts chatting her up. I mean, good for her for getting the attention of a guy that young, but of course Magister Galen gets all huffy about it. Then this young magister grabs her …” She pointed to breasts and raised her eyebrows. “So, this little old lady belts in him face. Like a left hook you wouldn’t believe and knocked him on the floor. He gets dragged out of the party and thrown in the gutter. He slept there overnight.”  
“He should be disgraced.” Cassandra sniffed. “That type of behavior is …”  
“Just what we needed.” Dorian interjected walking into the dining room. Behind him was the large man she had seen the first day they had arrived. He had a suspicious black eye. Olga started snorting behind her and the big man gave her a smile.  
“I didn’t think Lady Galen had such strength.”   
“You didn’t have to be so … appalling, Justin.” Dorian admonished as they joined the three women for dinner.  
“Justin of house Macer is the unloved son of Magister Imbrex Macer who is threatening to deny him his inheritance.” Dorian continued. “Unless he can find a well respected mentor, Justin will no longer inherit his father’s title and will be cast out onto the street.”  
“It should be noted that Galen is a political rival of Flavius’” Justin added. “I wanted to get his attention.”   
“You got everyone’s attention.” Dorian said taking a drink from the wine glass. “I didn’t expect your father to go so far but it does help our cause.”  
“So he’s trying to get in good with Flavius as his mentor.” Olga smiled approvingly into her food. “Good cover.”  
“I’m more of the deliverer actually.” Justin said slowly looking sideways at Dorian who pointedly ignored him as he cut his meat.   
“You’re the blood mage.” Cassandra spat at him.  
“I’m the blood mage, Lady Cassandra.” Dorian said coldly giving her a deadly stare. “Justin has a … reputation for certain talents but it will be I who will perform the ritual.”  
Cassandra shook her head. Despite Cassandra’s reservations, she had learned to trust Dorian. Lavellan knew the Seeker wouldn’t have agreed to the plan otherwise. She had been fierce in her questioning but in the end, she had agreed. Not that it was her choice, but Lavellan wasn’t doing something this dangerous unless everyone was on board.   
“When do we start?” Lavallen asked.   
Dorian gave a small half smile. “Right after dessert.”

 

***

The wolf was exhausted but he had done it. They were up and ready. As soon as he was fully recovered he would head through. The dragon watched the wolf allow himself to be whisked away into a deep slumber. He never left himself so unguarded but his fatigue had won. Slowly the dragon uncurled herself and swept forward. 

Later that night, dark shapes moved through the Brecillian forest. The shadows disturbed neither animal nor elf until they arrived at their destination. Stone halls scarred with claw marks welcomed the visitors as they headed deep inside the ruins. The crying of a child calling for his mother echoed in the distance while the figures approached the burial chamber. Someone had been here. Signs of a fight that had lead to the sarcophagi being opened. In the middle stood the ghost of an elven women starring down at her hands. She looked up and smiled.   
“Abelas!"


	6. Blood Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lavellan and Dorian seek the help of a Blood Mage as means to enter the Nerva estate to find an elven artifact.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a little long this time. I couldn't find a good place to break it into two.

It was cold and dark when Dorian and Lavellan left. Justin had left shortly after he had arrived.   
Dorian and she climbed into a carriage with dark curtains over the windows.   
“Blood magic is sadly common among the magisters.” Dorian said as they bumped along the cobblestones towards their destination. ‘Fortunately, most of the rituals don’t actually require one to give all his blood but many of the blood sacrifices do come from unwilling participants.” He seemed nervous and stared at the fabric covered window.   
“I’ve started a rumor that I arranged for Justin to give you a new arm. Of course, it will go horribly wrong leaving you a mind controlled slave.”  
She was stunned. He had neglected to say this earlier. Her shock was evident which caused Dorian to smile.  
“I’m what?” She gasped.  
“You’re risking a great deal, my friend. You might as well get something out of it.”  
The carriage lurched to a stop and the doors were opened by an elf in green and gold livery. A young human dressed in similar colors approached them.  
“Magister Parvus. Inquisitor Lavellan. My master is expecting you for your treatment.” He turned around and lead them towards the house. Lavellan discreetly looked around and noted the number of servants and slaves coming and going. If even one were an agent of Fen’harel, the deception was necessary. She had to play her part.   
Inside the grand estate, the servant brought them to a large room with a circular table. The floor was red. At the opposite end of the table, Justin sat in a thick dark robe.  
“Magister Parvus and Inquisitor Lavellan, my Lord.”   
Justin stood. “Ah, Dorian my good friend, it’s a joy to see you again and this must be the famed Inquisitor.” He walked around the table and clasped them each by the hand. “I understand you’ve misplaced your left arm. Well, I can assure you I can rectify the situation.” Turning towards Dorian, he continued in a cordial tone, “Dorian, were you planning on staying? I can have one of the slaves set you up with a plate in another room.”   
“I am staying, Justin.” Dorian replied equally cordially but with a force making it clear to everyone around that he was staying. “I will also be present during the ritual and providing the blood sample myself.”   
“Magister Parvus, this is highly irregular.” The human servant gasped. “No one witnesses my master’s works and for a magister to provide his own blood….”  
“I have only agreed to this if the blood comes from a willing participant.” Levallen responded. “Dorian has agreed and will be present or the deal is off. I have many enemies and I will not be left defenseless during the ritual.”  
Everyone was quiet as the slaves pretended not to watch and the human servant lost his words.  
“Of course, my dear Inquisitor.” Justin answered smoothly. “We’ll have Magister Parvus behind a screen so he cannot see my craft but will be available should you need him. His blood will work equally well regardless.”  
A flurry of motion occurred as servants made the arrangements. Justin and the human mage began whispering in the corner. Dorian absently paced with his arms crossed trying to look relaxed. He winked at Lavellan.   
“We’re ready m’Lord.” An elf bowed and walked away.   
“Excellent.” Justin responded. “Oh, Dio” he called to the human servant preparing to walk into the room. “I will not need your services today. Since Magister Parvus is so concerned about the well being of the Inquisitor, I think it best that it is just the three of us. No cuts for you.” Dio looked back and forth between the two men before bowing and closing the doors to the room behind them.   
“Now, Lady Inquisitor, please lie on the table.” She started to say something but Justin placed his index finger over his lips and then indicated that people were listening outside the door. She nodded.   
Climbing on the table, she asked, “Does the arm grow back and how long does it take?”  
“Grow back? Oh no, my dear, we have a donor.” The large mage opened a chest covered in ice and pulled out a slightly blue elven limb. She gasped.   
“Don’t worry, Inquisitor.” Justin soothed. “The young lady was killed in a horse accident earlier today.” Furious but silent she looked over towards Dorian who gave her a small nod in affirmation.   
Silently, she laid down on the tablet and unbuttoned her coat. Underneath was a sleeveless blouse exposing her missing arm. Justin brought the limb and set it down next to her. Dorian cut his hand as Justin stepped aside letting Dorian stand over her. He began murmuring words she couldn’t make out then everything went black. 

***  
“Lavellan.” It was Dorian’s voice but it came from inside her head. “You are to follow my commands above all else. You shall follow Flavius’ commands as long as they do not conflict with my own. Around your neck is the sending crystal. Keep it hidden and report to me daily when it is safe. Gather all information you can on Magister Flavus, his dealings with visitors and the location of the Binder. Should you find yourself in danger, you are to leave and return to the store in the fish market. You are to refuse to leave with me and will defer to Justin until he turns you over to Flavius. At that point, you will ignore Justin’s commands. Good luck.”  
She felt like her head was wrapped in warm towels. Opening her eyes, the ceiling swirled above her. Dio was sitting in a small chair next to her. From somewhere far away she could hear Dorian and Justin discussing politics.   
Dio stepped forward and smirked down at her. “An elf as a world leader. Have you ever heard anything so ridiculous? Now, you will serve your betters.”  
“How dare you” she tried to yell and sit up. However, the words came out as a slurred mess and her attempt to sit up lead to toppling over. Dio grabbed her and laid her back down.   
“Master, “ he called. “Inquisitor Lavellan is awake.”  
Her head hurt. She brought her hands up to eyes and stopped. Staring at the left hand in front of her, she slowly wiggled each finger. Her right hand grasped her left wrist. It felt normal. It moved as her other arm had. Despite the situation, she smiled and a small giggle left her throat.  
“There, Magister Parvus.” Justin’s voice proceeded him into the room. “Your believed Inquisitor is just fine and seems to be enjoying her new arm.” He sauntered in while Dorian strode around him and leaned over Lavellan.  
“How are you doing? Do you feel alright?” He looked concerned.   
“I am. Help me up.” He put an arm around her shoulders and helped her sit up. She slowly swung her legs around to hang off the table. The world spun for a few more minutes but it slowly came into focus. She held out both arms, looking back and forth. Slowly, she used her left hand to bring forth a small bolt of electricity that zapped onto the floor leaving a small scorch mark. It was truly remarkable.   
Beaming at Justin, “Thank you, Lord Macer. This is better than I could have possibly hoped.”   
“You are quite welcome, Lady Inquisitor. Magister Parvus has already arranged the transfer of funds for the proceedings. So, I believe we are done here.”  
“Thank you, m’Lord, but I think I’d like to stay here. I’m not feeling up to traveling.” The words tumbled out on their own. They were said in the same way she would have has she chosen to stay with Justin which was unnerving.   
Dorian’s brow furrowed. “Inquisitor, why would you stay here? My manor is only a short ride from here. I think you’d be more comfortable….”  
“I’m staying here, Dorian.” Lavellan cut him off. “I’m sure Lord Macer does not object.”  
Justin acted shocked. “Of course, Lady Inquisitor, you are always welcomed but are you sure you wouldn’t rather return with Dorian.”  
“You are too kind, but I really would prefer to just go straight to bed. I don’ think I have the strength to travel tonight.” She smiled at him.   
Justin looked at Dorian with a bewildered expression. “She is welcome.” Dorian shook his head and looked back and forth between them.   
“If you’re sure?” he paused looking at her with a concerned expression.  
“I am.”   
He sighed. “Well, I will leave you to get your rest.” Turning to Justin, he continued “I will return tomorrow morning.” Walking out of the room, he turned back to her for a moment and then left.   
Justin helped her up onto her feet. It took her a few minutes to get her balance. An elven servant came in and nodded at Justin. Another group of elves came in and began cleaning the room.  
“Well, Inquisitor, now you belong to me.” From the side, Dio came up and bowed to Justin.  
“M’lord, I have sent word to Magister Nerva of our success. He is expecting us.”  
“Excellent.” He walked over to a small desk in the corner of the room and pulled out quill and parchment.   
“Come here, Inquisitor.”  
Like a spasm, her legs walked over to the table. He handed her the quill.   
“You will right a letter to Magister Parvus explaining that you had to leave on urgent business. Make it believable and include something about your former contacts in the Inquisition. We leave in ten minutes.”

***

“Your father will be quite pleased.” Dio said as he, Justin and Lavellan entered the back door of the Nerva estate. “Magister Nerva is well respected. I believe your father was concerned you were getting to close to the Lucerni, which is why he wanted you to find a proper mentor. He wants you to inherit his title but only if you’ll do it justice.”   
Justin glared at him. They were now standing in a small keeping room in the back of the house waiting to be called. “I’m so happy my father sent you to spy on me, Dio. As if I didn’t have enough problems.”  
Dio sniffed. “Your talents could make you the envy of the Magisterium if you used them correctly and Magister Nerva will help guide you.”  
Lavellan listened to the exchange. Dio walked a fine line between servant and nurse maid. He must have felt that his role as Magister Macer’s man servant protected him from the wrath of his son.   
A knock on the door proceeded a small female elf in blue and white entering the room.   
“Magister Nerva will see you now.” She curtsied and indicated that they should follow.   
It was strange. Walking down the corridor she felt as if she had completed control of her body. Every time she thought about going against orders or was told to do something her body rebelled against her. She could understand the insidious nature of blood magic mind control. It gave you enough freedom to be yourself and waylay suspicion. She wondered what would happen if Mythal ordered to go against Dorian’s commands. Which one would win?  
Entering a large dressing room, a middle aged man sat in long ornate robes at a desk. His hair was black with wings of grey at either side and would have been handsome had he not had such a condescending look on his face. He looked up as they entered and gave a cold smile to all of them.  
“Ah, Justin. So nice to see you.” His eyes focused on her with a greedy look. “And this must be Inquisitor Lavellan…with two arms I see.”   
“The ritual worked as planned my lord.” Justin bowed deeply. “I am ready to turn her mind over if you will have me as a mentor.”  
“How could I refuse such a talented apprentice?” Flavius smiled at Justin. “I did not know one could turn over complete control to another. My understanding is that whomever cast the ritual has the ultimate control.”  
If the comment disturbed Justin, he didn’t let it show.  
“I have found a way, m’Lord. If I may?” Flavius gestured for Justin to go ahead. Pulling out a knife, Dio offered his hand up and cut into the skin. Justin began murmuring as the blood lifted off Dio’s hand seemed to evaporate. If something happened, Lavellan couldn’t tell. Flavius seemed intrigued.   
“She is your’s. I turn her over to you.”   
“Did you?” Flavius raised an eye brow. “Command her to do something.”  
Justin looked to Lavellan. “Elf, walk across the room.” There was no compulsion to move. The second half of Dorian’s command had come into play once Justin had given her to Flavius.   
The Magister has an unreadable expression on his face. He ordered “Lavellan, mind blast.”  
The magic surged before she realized it and Justin and Dio were knocked back. He seemed pleased.  
“We’ll you certainly aren’t protected from my commands.” Flavius mused looking at the bewildered Justin. “If you could just order her to follow my commands above all other, I’ll be happy.”   
Justin nodded straighten up from the blast. “Lavellan, you will follow Magister Nerva’s commands above mine and all others.”  
“There, now I feel better. I will send a message to your father that I’ve taken you on as my protege.”   
“Thank you, m’lord.”   
“You may go now.” Justin and Dio bowed and were shown out.   
Flavius stared after them for several minutes deep in thought before turning to Lavellan.  
“Well, the elf that took the world by storm.” He gave another cold smile. “I’m so happy you asked your little Lucerni friend to find a way to fix your arm. When I heard you were entering the city, I knew I had to meet you.”   
“You knew I was coming?”  
“Yes. When Dorian was making inquires into Justin’s craft, it was clearly obvious as to why he would be interested. At least to me.”  
A small knock came from the door. Lavellan’s heart fell into her gut as a Dalish dressed elf entered into the room. A Dalish without the vallaslin.   
“Keeper Deshanna?!!” Lavellan gasped. “What are you doing here? I looked all over the Free Marches for the clan and found nothing.”   
“We came when Fen’harel called, Da’len. I am sorry you have lost your way.” She had such a sad look on her face.  
“I have not lost my way!” How could her clan do this? To tear down the veil would destroy everything in this world. “You would see everything in this world die.”  
“The shems have enslaved our people for too long. We will recapture what was lost and lead our people to a better life. You would see the people treated like animals for eternity?”  
“The people are partly responsible for our own situation. We started the conflict that lost the Dales. We started the civil war that allowed Arlathan to fall.”  
“Enough, Lavellan.” Flavius cut her off. Her turned to the Keeper. “You verify that this is Inquisitor Lavellan.”  
Deshanna had kept her composure as she always did during arguments with her first. “Yes, m’Lord Flavius.”  
“Can you confirm again the relationship she had with Fen’harel?”  
This caused the Keeper to look a little confused. “He served her during the Inquisition to close the breach. I believe they were quite close.”  
Flavius relaxed back into his chair. Looking at Lavellan, “Were you quite close with Fen’harel?”   
This couldn’t be happening. Why was Keeper Deshanna helping Flavius? A Magister? And, why did he care about her relationship with Solas. Uncontrolled, she responded.  
“Yes. We started a romantic involvement but he turned away to tear down the Veil.”  
“Do you think he still has feelings for you?”  
“Yes.” She whispered. Keep Deshanna bowed her head as she answered. During her time in the Inquisition, she had reached out to Keeper Deshanna about her feelings for Solas particularly after the closing of the breach. The Keeper has always given good counsel and kept it in confidence. To find she had betrayed her was the final straw. This was no longer the clan she remembered.  
“I am pleased you are in my service, Inquisitor.” That greedy look spread over his face again. “I expect you will be most useful. Your Keeper will take you to your room.”

***  
The walk upstairs was quiet as the two women headed towards the bed rooms. Deshanna opened a door to a small room fit for a servant. It was clean but dark and simple.   
“How could you be working for a Magister?” Lavellan spat as she entered a room.   
“You are the one who has turned against your people, Da’len, not I. Fen’harel is the last of our true leaders and he will restore the elves to our rightful place. We will learn what we have forgotten. Isn’t that what all Dalish have strived to do?”  
“We could do that without sundering the Veil. Without destroying this world.” Lavellan shook her head. “I had enough sway that Divine Justinia would have granted us a new Dales. We would have restarted there with Solas guiding us.”  
“Fen’harel.” Keeper Deshanna corrected. “And you will do well to remember who he is.” She still sounded like her teacher from so long ago disciplining an unruly pupil. “And Magister Flavius is more than he appears. He’s half elf and an agent of Fen’harel. I believe he means to turn you over to the Dread Wolf as both a way to gain favor and to ensure you do not thwart our plans.”  
She turned to go leaving Lavellan in her room. As she closed the door, she said “ A mind controlled slave. This is what happens when you betray your own people.”

***

She tried to dream but blood magic had a profound affect on her connection to the Fade. As soon as she drifted into that plan, the would snap back to dreamless sleep. When she did briefly enter the Fade, it felt as if was bound in a tight sheet unable to move or speak. The flashes of dreams were horribly disconcerting.   
Standing in Skyhold looking at maps. SNAP, back to darkness.   
The cold night airs moves around her as looks down on the caravan. SNAP, back to darkness.  
A plain of wild flowers on a sunny day as a wolf looks down from the surrounding bluffs. SNAP back to darkness   
Sitting at campfire in the Emerald Graves. The wolf is slinking closer. SNAP, back to darkness.   
Standing in ancient ruins, Solas dressed in elven armor with a worried look Reaching out to her, he calls “Vehnan!” SNAP and back to darkness.   
She did not dream the rest of the night.


	7. Finders Keepers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lavellan makes a break through and two old friends reunite under unusual circumstances.

Solas stood in the Fade. His arm still out stretched towards where Lavellan had been. She’d flickered like a candle that suddenly went out. Lowering his arm, his hand tightened into a fist.   
Blood magic. That was the only thing that could interrupt a mage’s connection like that. Someone had her in his or her thrall. How could she have let herself be captured? He sighed. He was too close. He could not go after her now. If he ever discovered who had done this…  
Clasping his hands behind him, Fen’Harel hardened himself. There was so much left to do. 

***  
She was exhausted. Over the entire day, Flavius had grilled her about her life in the Inquisition, plans and Solas. Anything that did not directly relate to Dorian’s plan was fair game. If it hadn’t, Flavius would have been suspicious. It embarrassed her to give a word for word retelling of what happened in the Crestwood glen where Solas broke her heart. To make matters worse, her former Keeper sat beside her during the entire interrogation verifying the words tumbling out of her mouth. Why had she told her so much?   
Exhausted or not, she had a job to do. Lying in her little bed, she waited until everything lay silent. She crept out of her room to begin hunting for the Binder. The estate was massive with two or three levels underground alone.   
“Well,” She thought to herself, “I will just have to work my way down.” Coming to the first store room just under the kitchen, Lavellan knelt down and pulled out two metal pins. Varric had taught her more than how to improve her Wicked Grace game. Carefully after she had searched for any enchantments, she picked the lock opening the store room where she only found stacks of boxes and wrapped kitchen items.   
“Store room one of eight. Well, this will be a tedious adventure.” Slowly, she began picking her way through each box.  
Over the course of the following week, her days and nights were the same. She’d spend several hours answering question followed by some disgusting menial task the other elves didn’t want to do. Her clan members mostly ignored her while the other Dalish regarded her with contempt. Some kicked dirt in her face or knocked their ale into her food. A few even went so far as to spit at her and call her shem. The native Tevinter elves seemed torn between anger for siding against Fen’Harel and admiration for work with the Inquisition. They were more forgiving. The long days were followed by equally long nights as she spent hours slowly working through the store rooms. She was averaging about 2-3 hours of sleep a night and it was taking its toll.   
Dorian was worried. Every evening when she checked in, he could hear the exhaustion and frustration in her voice. He was also anxious about the way the Dalish were treating her. Hiding behind humor, he seemed to feel that they may try to make an example out of her. Fortunately, her connection to Solas was of some protection. She tried to soothe him as best she could. The Dalish could always be harsh to outsiders and even worse to traitors. She had half hoped that some of them would have seen the danger in Fen’Harel’s plan, but sadly, they cared for little else beyond reclaiming their homeland.   
On the eighth night, her luck changed. Going through a small vault, she felt energy radiating from the wall. The wall felt warm and seemed to hum. Whispers from the back of her mind began to murmur. A hiding spell? The Well recognized the type of magic. Listening, she followed its advice and untied the weave of magic she felt. As she pulled the last few threads, the wall fell away to reveal a small alcove. Inside stood the Binder. It looked like the rest of the artifacts she had triggered across Thedas but this one nearly matched her in height. She walked towards it and the voices from the Well swelled enveloping her in visions of the past.

Suddenly, she and the Binder were no longer in the store room. She didn’t even think she was in Tevinter. The large room in which they now stood held towering elven-style ceilings. Several elves were present encircling the Binder and seemed to be focusing power onto it. The image shifted. 

She saw the artifacts but saw more than just the glowing orbs. She could see how they manipulated the world around them. From each orb, a beam of power shot into the sky. Where it met the Veil, it thickened. Then all the artifacts at once pulled downward. The thickened areas pulled away from the sky forming large funnels. Hundreds across southern Thedas pulled downward. The Veil buckled as it was pulled tight but it would not tear, and it would not fall down. 

Back in the large room, two elves stared at the Binder and spoke amongst themselves.  
“We’ve even used Lyrium from the Stone and still it will not fall. Our magic is too weak.”  
“But when the Veil pulls tight. The tension is palpable. It is on the brink of tearing.”   
“Like fabric being pulled too tight, a small cut should rip it asunder.”  
The image shifted again.

A female elf oversaw the creation of a tall, thin black spire. It was the same size as the Binder. The room was empty save for the female elf and a child sleeping in the corner. Somehow, she knew it as the woman’s son. An armored figured entered the nearby doorway. Lavellan recognized him immediately.  
“Abelas,” The female elf smiled weakly as he entered. “We’re nearing completion and I don’t think I can stall it much longer. It will tear the Veil releasing Mythal’s killers.”   
Abelas looked grim. “It may not matter. The earlier attempts to pull down the Veil attracted the attention of human mages from the north. They are …powerful. Many mistakenly fear their presence has caused our people to age, so they flee. In their fleeing, these Tevinters have taken much of our land and learned more of our secrets. They’ve become greedy for more and our retreats have emboldened them. They approach the city even as I speak.”  
The woman looked concerned and glanced over to her son. “They will not be able to breach Arlathan, Abelas. Besides, I built something else that will return Mythal to us.”  
Abelas cocked his head. He seemed intrigued. “So many of the others still follow the Evanuris. If they knew you were working against them…” He stared up at the black spire. “I will return to the Mythal’s Temple and bring our disciples here to collect you, this spire and your something else.” He gave her a forceful look. “If the humans breach the city…”  
“No matter what happens, Abelas. I will wait here. You will not be able to work the device to return Mythal without my instruction and I cannot activate it by myself. Without Mythal, we are all lost.” 

The vision faded as the Well quieted. However, it left a knowing. Abelas never made it back to the laboratory. Shortly after the vision, Arlathan sunk into the ground. Thinking all was lost, the Temple of Mythal was sealed and would not reopen until the Inquisition and the Red Templars forced their way in. Did the woman and her son wait? Did they survive the sinking? The Well did not know.   
After resealing the room, Lavellan returned to her chambers and sat on the edge of her bed. She had found the Binder but how was she going to get it out of the estate. It was massive. Not only that, but there was another piece to the puzzle: the black spire to cut the Veil. The artifacts and the Binder alone were not enough to pull it down. It was beginning to make more sense. The Veil was impossibly thin over Minrathous after generations of blood magic and summoning spirits. Pulling the Veil downward would stretch and strain it to the break point. The Veil would be the easiest to cut here. Either Solas was planning on bringing the spire here or the Magisters that sunk the city had plundered the remains. If they had, that artifact was likely in Minrathous. After all, who else could have entered those ruins?

***  
Sitting in her quarters, Warden Commander Amell reviewed reports at a small table near the fire. Her heavy grey robe kept out the cold that crept in off the Amaranthine coast. Her husband, Cullen, sat at the other end of the table reading a book while two Mubari slept at their feet.  
“Warden Commander.” The knock came with the voice.   
“Yes, come in.”   
A young warden entered the room. “Commander, a set of visitors has come demanding to speak with you. The leader goes by the name Morrigan.”  
“Morrigan?” Amell said in a startled voice and a quick glance at Cullen. “Where is she?”  
“In the main hall, Ma’am.”  
“Thank you.” She immediately got up to leave.  
“Would you like me to come with you? I am acquainted with the mage.” Cullen asked  
“That may not be a bad idea.” She answered. The two walked out together while the mubari trailed behind.   
Entering the main hall, Amell saw Morrigan standing in the middle of the room flanked by a party of tall cloaked figures. Beside her stood a young boy. It was the boy that caught Amell dead in her tracks.   
“Ah, Warden. I see you’ve noticed my son, Kieran. He’s been eager to meet you.” Morrigan smiled.  
“Pleased to meet you, Warden Amell.” Kieran gave a small smile.   
“A pleasure to meet you as well, Kieren.” Amell whispered with cautious look to Morrigan. “Is he…well?”  
“Yes, my friend, he is well.”  
“Regrets?”   
“None. He is my son and I’m better for him.” Morrigan smiled down at Kieren. Amell visibly relaxed while Cullen looked suspiciously between the two women.   
“Lady Morrigan, a pleasure to see you again.” Cullen gave her a small bow.   
“Commander,” Morrigan nodded “I had heard you left the Inquisition to marry our esteemed Hero. You are a far better choice than the last Templar.”   
“Morrigan,” Amell interrupted. “It’s wonderful to see you, but why are you here and who are your guests.”   
The hall was empty at that time of night with most troops in the barracks and the servants in the kitchen. The hooded figures pulled back their cloaks to reveal elves in stately armor. Cullen sucked in his breath.   
“These are the elves we fought in the Arbor Wilds? They were at the Temple of Mythal.”   
Amell looked at Cullen. He had told her much of what had happened.   
“Yes,” Morrigan answered and indicating to the first elf “this is Abelas.”   
“How?” Cullen stammered. Morrigan gave a knowing glance to the Warden with a small smile on her lips.  
“Mother has a long reach on all of us.”  
Amell nodded. “She has that gift. What brings you all together to Amaranthine?”  
“You intruded into the ancient ruins of Arlathan.” Abelas started. ‘One of our researchers, whose spirit remained, said she saw you plunder the residual wealth there.”  
Amell started to defend herself when Morrigan interrupted. “Do you remember coming across a black object? It would be black as night and smooth as glass. About the size of a dinner plate? I cannot remember such an item.”  
Slowly shaking her head, “I do not remember any such object. Was it taken by Tevinter?”   
“No,” Abelas said. “She swore that she gave it to one of her colleagues during the evacuation. He may have stayed in the city and died or left and fled.”  
“If he fled, could he have gone to Cadash Thaig?” Amell answered. She was still confused about this researcher.  
“Cadash? Why would an elven artifact be in a Dwarven Thaig?” Morrigan seemed to be speaking more to herself than anyone else.   
“When I was searching of you, “ Amell answered, “I needed the lights of Arlathan which were in the Thaig. Cadash took in refugees from Arlathan but Orzammar destroyed the Thaig and everyone in it to prevent Tevinter from learning that dwarves had helped their enemy. If you can write down a description in detail, I can arrange for a search of the Thaig.”  
“No, “ Abelas said firmly. “This is our duty. We will see to it personally.”  
“That won’t be possible, Abelas.” Amell looked a little uncomfortable. “The entire Thaig is over run with Darkspawn. It has become a thriving city.”  
“How can darkspawn develop a city?” Morrigan spat with clear disgust. She remembered the Dead Trenches and what the Darkspawn had done to the Thaig there.  
“These darkspawn are different…” She paused. “And are our allies.” Even Cullen seemed to jump when she said that.   
“How can you have allies with the darkspawn?” Cullen demanded. He seemed shocked. Amell gave him a soft look before turning back to Morrigan.  
“Perhaps we should get more comfortable. I will first need to tell you about the Architect.”


	8. The Game is a Foot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lavellan stumbles on more than she bargained for while thwarting Solas' plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry this took so long. Between a computer crashing and the holidays, everything was put on hold so here is a twofer.

The best thing about being enslaved by blood magic was that nobody questions your actions. Lavellan quickly learned that nobody cared about her movements as everyone assumed she was working on behalf of Flavius. While she spent most of her days answering questions and completing degrading tasks, she would specifically place herself in areas where she could over hear the discussions of Flavius’ lieutenants. Both she and Dorian had decided where to move the Binder and how his people would intercept it. The challenge was getting it out of the secret store room with a believable excuse.   
Several days passed before she overheard something she could use. Whispers came from the disgruntled kitchen staff about sudden preparations for an unplanned banquet. Quiet fights arose between the Dalish and Tevinter elves behind closed doors. Secret orders to remove new items from the vaults and relocate others floated down the halls. Levallan heard it all. The only question was what was the cause?  
Then the order came down to clean out the storerooms and make room for more people. It was the break Levellan had been waiting for. She snuck into the storeroom where the Binder sat and removed the concealment spell hiding it in the wall. Slowly and with no shortage of grunting, she dragged it into the center of the room, wrapped it in a blanket and secured it with a cord. Casually walking out into the hallway, she joined the ebb and flow of people preparing the rooms. Two Dalish warriors were moving items out of the first store room while several women scrubbed the floors.   
Meekly bowing her head, Lavellan approached them and stood patient to the side until one of them noticed her.   
“What do you want, dog?” One sneered at her.  
“Master Flavius requests an item from the lower store room be loaned to the Museum of the Magisterium.”  
“How many more items is he loaning to that place? We already have a cartload being packed up to go there now.”  
“It allows for more space in the lower rooms so that these items” she indicated to the last of the boxes in the hallway, “can be stored down there.”  
A second Dalish sneered at her. “ We know why we are doing it, flat ear. There just won’t be a museum left in a month’s time.” He gave her a hard look. “Where is this item?”  
“I will show you.” She meekly walked back to the lower rooms while the two men followed her. She led them to the Binder and pointed at it. It took everything she had not to hold her breath to watch their reaction.   
“At least it isn’t as big as the last one.” The two elves walked over and lifted the wrapped Binder and carried it out. Lavellan smiled to herself. Dorian had told her via the sending crystal last night that Flavius was making a large loan to the Museum. It wasn’t uncommon. Magisters enjoyed displaying their magical items for periods in the museum as a sign of power and wealth.   
Now, she was free to leave. But…something was happening. The banquet was happening tomorrow as was the mysterious arrival of new people. From what she could gather, there would be at least one hundred new sleeping pallets in the store rooms. Her feet twitched. Dorian had given her orders to leave the estate as if she was in trouble or once the Binder had been secured. She could leave tomorrow evening in the chaos of the banquet and raise less suspicion. This seemed to work as the urge to leave eased.   
“Lavellan!” Flavius stood in the center of the hallway. “Come.” He spun around and walked down the hall. Lavellan obediently followed him to the kitchens. Once there she found her Keeper, the head house keeper and cook discussing the banquet arrangement.   
“Mistress Luria, please arrange for servant livery for Lavellan and teach her the Tevinter protocol for serving wine.” Keeper Deshanna looked like she had swallowed a lemon and both Mistress Luria and Chef Calara looked stunned.   
“Of course, Magister Flavius.” She answered and indicated for Lavellan to follow her.   
“Magister Flavius!” The Keeper spat out. “What is the…” The Magister gave her an icy look. The tension between the two was electric. However, Mistress Luria whisked her out of the room before she hear what happened. 

***  
After speaking with Dorian that night via the crystal, she had confirmation that the Binder had arrived and been taken by his contacts. He agreed with her idea to stay another night to see what was happening but stressed the importance of her leaving if things became dangerous.   
Standing in the kitchens wearing the breeches and jacket of Magister Flavius and her hair piled onto of her head, Lavellan quietly polished the silver with the other servants. A tense silence hung over the group. The young woman standing next to Lavellan leaned over to her.   
“I wanted to let you know that I really admire how you lead the Inquisition. An elf leading all those shems….” She gave a small smile. Flashing her eyes around, the other elves were looking at her like … like her soldiers did the day she was named Inquisitor.   
“We were really proud of you.” An old servant whispered. “You gave us all hope.”   
“There is a rumor Magister Parvus wants to end slavery. He spent time speaking with…” The elf stopped and looked back down to her silverware. Nervous shifting occurred around the table.   
“Why are you not supporting Fen’Harel?” The first elf asked cautiously.   
“Thank you for your kind words.” Lavellan answered. “It’s just that tearing down the Veil will destroy the world. How many innocent people will die? Solas placed the Veil to help the elves but are we better off? Will tearing it improve our lives? We cannot look to the past but move forward. Plus, we are partially responsible for what happened to us. How long will we be just the victims?”   
Everyone looked back to their work in silence.   
As they finished the last pieces, shouting erupted from the main hall. A gong sounded signaling for all the servants to come to the hall. She followed the servants down to the hall and took her lowly place in the back waiting to be addressed.   
The hall was decorated for the banquet. The marble halls were polished to gleam with rows of tables topped with flowers and the gleaming silver. A pathway marked with a gold and black carpet divided the hall in half. At the far end, a dais stood with overlooking the room. In the center of the dais stood a tall Eluvian glowing. Flavius stood on the dais next to the Eluvian. In front of the servants stood the Dalish with the clan Keepers at the forefront.   
Suddenly, elves burst forth from the mirror. Dressed in exotic styles from the Anderfells, Par Vollen and Dalish clans she did not recognize. Rows and rows of men and women dressed in battle garb marched out in two rank lines.   
“It’s an invasion.” Lavellan thought to herself. They were moving troops via the Eluvians to Minrathous. The unconquerable city would fall from the inside. She had to tell Dorian but there was no way to slip out unnoticed. She would have to serve wine during dinner but during the clean up she could sneak out. No one would notice after she had done her serving.   
Following the Dalish, elves came through dressed in ancient armor. They bore no vallaslin and their look was…different. They reminded her of the elves in the Arbor Wilds but their armor was strange with wolf jaw bones hanging around their necks. Totaling about 50, the flanked each side of the mirror and knelt down. Flavius signaled and all the servants and Dalish knelt as well. Lavellan followed suit with her heart in her throat.   
The sound of someone coming through the mirror was followed by it turning off. Looking through her lashes, Lavellan’s mouth went dry. Grasping the hand of Flavius, stood Solas.


	9. Vehnan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas sees through Flavius while Lavellan meets a renown Magister.

“It is a pleasure to meet you in person, Magister. I had been unaware that any of the Magisters were elves.” Solas gave a polite smile clasping his hands behind his back.  
“My Lord, Fen’Harel, it is a great honor. I am elvish through my mother’s side. So many of our women are abused at the hands of the Shemlin. Had my father had another heir, I would not have been in such a position to help you. Your people and I rejoice at your return to us.”  
Solas shook his head. “I am simply one of The People. I owe you all a debt.” He turned to the gathered crowd. “I destroyed our culture and our people. Now, I am grateful for this chance. As the Veil falls, the elves have the best natural ability to absorb the raw power of the Fade. As the nations of the Thedas fall into chaos, we will pull together and rebuild our nation.”  
The room erupted in cheers. So many of the elves had lived most of their lives in despair while the Dalish were desperate for vindication. Fen’Harel embodied all of their hopes and dreams. They would follow him to the death.  
Flavius applauded a few claps before signaling to where the servants stood while two men came forward to move the table on the dais to the center. “Let’s start the celebration.” The kitchen servants scattered while the servers followed. The rest along with the Dalish and the new arrivals took their seats at the long tables. Solas, Flavius, Mistress Luria and the Keepers sat at the table on the dais.  
Lavellan stood in line in the kitchen with the other wine serves. As Lavellan received her wine pitcher the butler said “You will be serving the head table.” She froze. “The …head table?”  
“Yes, Inquisitor. The table on the dais. I remind you that the servers in Tevinter are silent.” There was a warning to his voice. She gave a small nod and returned to the main hall.  
The noise was deafening as everyone chatted about elvish heritage and their new lives. Solas and Flavius sat in the middle of the table deep in discussion. She approached Solas’ side of the dais since his back was turned toward her and began filling the first Keeper’s wine glass. Her ears burned as she tried to listen to what the two men said.  
“Yes, m’Lord, the lyrium supply is low.” Flavius answered slowly as the Keeper next to Solas interjected.  
“My Lord Fen’Harel, the problem lies within the dedication of the Tevinter slaves. They are unable to obtain the supplies.”  
Mistress Lucia bent around Flavius next to whom she was sitting to answer the Keeper’s accusation.  
“The Tevinter elves are the most loyal to the cause. We have the most to lose if this fails.” She turned her eyes to Solas. “The dwarves are not releasing the lyrium to any elves. Every one of our agents in the different houses have been told that they cannot order or receive lyrium shipments due to a problem with their account and the human Magisters and mages must do it personally.”  
Flavius seemed to pause. “Magister Parvus put forth a petition to require all lyrium shipments to be ordered and taken by humans to prevent lyrium from leaking to us and the Qunari.”  
“It seems Magister Parvus was successful.” Solas said quietly with a small smile.  
“No, my Lord.” Flavius said vehemently. “The Ambassadoria made it very clear they were not in support of the petition even though they had to officially say it should pass. Their derision towards the petition eroded its support in the Magisterium but the Magisters are scared of your influence. The Magisterium was at a standstill, so I spearheaded the opposition and convinced the other…”  
“You spearheaded the opposition?” Solas’ voice remained conversational. “You were to remain inconspicuous.”  
Flavius’ spine stiffened. He was clearly not used to not being in charge. “My Lord Fen’Harel with all due respect I was trying to serve our cause. No magister would step forward and Dorian and Talani were gradually winning over the magisters. Had the vote been postponed much longer, they would have had enough votes to pass it.”  
“It appears Magister Parvus did not need the support of the Magisterium.” Solas kept his cool demeanor. He was leaning back now in his chair. She had made her way down the table but his back was still towards her. Gingerly she took his glass while standing behind him. She was vaguely aware of the Keepers and many of the elves down in the hall watching her to see what would happen.  
Solas continued. “The only thing your move to block his petition did was bring you to his attention. Is there any chance he could have found out about your heritage? If so, you could be in jeopardy.”  
Lavellan walked by both Solas and Flavius carefully keeping her back towards Solas. She did reach for Flavius’ glass standing behind his back. He was fuming. Inside she was smiling. “Dorian, you sneaky, wonderful man.” Now she had to slip out before Solas realized she was here. He was already suspicious that Flavius’ cover had been lost with the Lucerni. If so, her presence would raise more questions. Solas would not be blinded by pride like Flavius. She continued to move down the table filling glasses. She was also aware that the two men were staring at each other.  
“Lavellan! Wine!” Flavius screamed as he held up his glass. The whole room went silent. She froze. “What is your game, Flavius.” She thought.  
She turned smoothly and walked back towards Flavius. He was red in the face and shaking. “He over plays his hand.” Dorian had said. She could not look at Solas. If she did, she did not know what her response would be. All eyes were watching the dais. She reached for Flavius’ cup. He must have downed the whole glass in one gulp in order to call her back. From her peripheral vision she could see Solas still leaning back in his chair hands folded in front of him. He was looking at her. He did not move. She could not see his face. She filled the glass and started to turn away but Flavius’ arm gripped her arm.  
“As you can see my Lord.” There was a sneer in his voice. “I have a very good piece of insurance to prevent my downfall. I am in no jeopardy.”  
“Magister Parvus knows she’s here?” Solas’ voice was smooth but cold. She knew him well enough to recognize danger in his voice.  
“No,” Flavius seemed to relax in self-confidence though his grip tightened on her arm. It was beginning to hurt but she kept standing tall with her back towards the two men. “I acquired her while she was getting her new arm.” He held up his hand that gripped her. “Justin was a world renown blood mage which enabled to perform miraculous healing techniques. He ensnared her and gave her to me.”  
“I was unaware that a blood mage could transfer control to another fully as long as he lived.”  
“That’s why I had him killed on his way back to his estate. No one will know that she is here and even if Justin was in league with the Lucerni they would not dare attack me knowing I now control her.”  
“Is Magister Parvus the only one reason you arranged such a dangerous acquisition?” The words hung out there. Lavellan closed her eyes. Dorian wanted to ensure she felt that Solas was in love with her because Flavius would have been able to ferret out the truth. Knowing Solas’ feelings, she would be the perfect insurance against Solas.  
Flavius smiled. “Lavellan, if I am killed, maimed or loose control of my mind you will kill yourself.” He let go of her arm forcefully. She started to walk away. “Oh and Lavellan, head to my chambers and wait for me there.”  
Keeper Dashanna made an audible gasping sound. Whatever her thoughts on her, the Keeper did not like seeing her treated this way. Solas did not say anything.  
Whatever he said she did not hear. As soon as she walked out of the main hall she made her way through the kitchens. The cooks were busy preparing the second course and did not see as another liveried elf strolled through and out the back. She moved out the side door through the kitchen gardens and out the main gate.  
The hardest part was not to run. Running would have attracted attention. It was later in the evening so few people were in the market. She casually stolled to the alley with the picture of the fish intestines. Once she rounded the corner she ran into the small building. She closed the door and leaned against the door shaking. 

***

“Lavellan.” Dorian wrapped his arm around her. “You know you’re the first woman that has kept me up at night.” He stood back and gave her a relieved smile. “You were marvelous.”  
“Dorian, he’s here. Solas.”  
“Thank the Maker you’re safe.” Cassandra came striding in with Olga behind her. “When we heard about Justin…”  
Dorians face darkened. “He was supposed to be your safety contact. They found him in a ditch smelling like alcohol to look like he drank himself to death.” He crossed his arms and stared a hole in the floor. “We’ll have to clear his name when this is over. I will not allow him to be thought of as some drunk who died in the gutter.”  
“There’s nothing wrong with being drunk in the gutter. Some of my best nights ended in the gutter.” Olga pipped up. Dorian and Cassandra both gave her disgusted looks. The dwarf didn’t seem to care.  
“So, the Dread Wolf is in the city.” Dorian mused to himself. “What happened?”  
Lavellan quickly told them about what she over heard and seen.  
“My friend,” Dorian said when she was done. “You have done enough for now. I want you to get some sleep while still under the blood magic spell. It will protect you from revealing anything to Solas.”  
“You promised to remove the spell.” Cassandra demanded.  
“Cassandra, it’s fine.” Lavellan interrupted. “He is right. The blood magic blocks my connection to the Fade and after today, the last person I want to see is him.”

***

“Time to get up!” Olga bellowed as she swung open the door. “You’ve been asleep for two days.”  
Lavellan stretched like a cat. She felt rested for the first time in years. Without the fear of running into Solas in the Fade, she could actually rest while asleep.  
“Oh guess what,” Olga continued as she leaned against the bed. “Your friend Flavius hasn’t attended the last two Magisterium sessions. He’s never missed one.”  
“That doesn’t bode well for Flavius.” She ran her fingers through her hair.  
“Did he do that do you?” Olga pointed to her arm. A large bruised ring was turning purple around her arm.  
“Yeah, Flavius was trying to make a point.”  
Olga grunted. “I hope he’s dead.”  
Quickly dressing, Lavellan joined Cassandra, Olga and Dorian in the main room. They were sitting around the large table with a woman. She was as tall as Dorian with flowing blonde hair and dressed in ornate black robes.  
“Inquisitor Lavellan may I introduce you to my good friend. Magister Maevaris Tilani.” Dorian gestured to the blonde woman.  
“Inquisitor Lavellan, it is a pleasure to finally meet you. I trust you slept well.” Maevaris gave her a pleasant smile.  
“Yes, Magister.” Lavellan took the free chair. “It is so nice to finally meet you as well. Dorian has said so many wonderful things about you.”  
“Dorian has always been too kind. He’s an excellent Magister and an even better friend.”  
“I think you surpass us all.” Dorian smiled before becoming serious. “I’ve been updating Maevaris about what you’ve told me. Despite our blow to Solas’s plan, the number of elves he’s smuggled into the city is deeply disturbing. He could launch a coup at any time.”  
“You two seem to have a plan.” Lavellan smiled at the two Magisters who gave each other a quick glance.  
Maevaris answered, “My dear, we think it’s time for you to meet the Magisters.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think writing Solas is the most challenging of the original characters. Hopefully he comes across true to form.


	10. The Magisterium

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, Lavellan approaches the Magisters and is approached by Solas

With the help of Magister Tilani, Dorian lifted the blood magic’s control. Lavellan had not realized how heavy the spell weighed on her mind. As the two finished, she felt like she dropped a tremendous weight from her shoulders and gave an audible sigh of relief.   
“Feel better, do you?” Dorian said with a smile.  
“I’m impressed, Dorian.” Cassandra said as she tilted her heading watching the whole ordeal. “I had no idea that blood magic mind control was reversible.”   
“It is.” Tilani answered as she lowered her hands from the spell. “Unfortunately, most that employ it never release their victims.”   
“It had an unusual effect in the Fade.” Lavellan stretched as if she had been cramped for months. “I found that I could not maintain my connection. I kept flickering in and out.”  
“And I can guarantee Flavius had one of his lackeys watch you. It’s why one cannot simply pretend to be controlled.”  
“Out of curiosity,” Dorian interjected as he reached for a glass of wine. “Did you see our former comrade in the Fade in your flickering state?”  
“I did. He seemed …concerned. He actually approached me.” Lavellan looked at her hands.   
“Did he know where you were?” Dorian asked gently.   
“No.”   
Tilani raised an eye brow while Dorian and Cassandra exchanged quick glances. He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.   
“Well,” he said softly. “Let’s prepare you for the Magisterium.”   
***  
Hilam’shiral paled in comparison to the Magisterium. Dressed in her Inquisition formal wear, Lavellan tried not to stare as she walked down the ornate corridor. The ceiling towered above her carved out of obsidian with veins of silver and gold. Hovering chandeliers made from crystal and garnet sparkled on the marble floor. Towering windows formed the walls shedding spires of light across the hallway. Every few feet, large magical artifacts sat displayed in heavily enchanted niches. Lavellan recognized several from Flavius’ personal collection.   
At the end of the hall, Dorian and Maevarius approached an intricately carved door that swung open as they approached. The circular room before them held rows and rows of chairs arranged in smaller and smaller circles focused on a stage in the center of the room. Large sculpted dragons bore the weight of the ceiling with their expanded wings as magic made the scales glisten.   
In one wedge of the room approximately 15 magisters sat whispering with one another stopping abruptly when they noticed Dorian and Tilani enter the room with Lavellan, Cassandra and Olga close behind.   
“Inquisitor Lavellan, “Dorian announced. “May I introduce you to the Lucerni faction?” He made introductions quickly. “They have been updated on Flavius’ involvement with Solas.”   
“We have been quite concerned about the disappearance of elven slaves and the missing lyrium.” An older Magister with a long white beard began. “It is obvious that Tevinter will be the target of this Fen’Harel’s uprising.”   
“Unfortunately, our nation’s past transgressions are returning on us. The Lucerni’s efforts to change the Empire has started too late. Generations of blood magic has thinned the veil and earned us much hate from the elves.” A middle aged woman said while pointedly looking at Lavellan. “The best we can do now is limit the causalities of the innocent.”  
“Magister Tilani,” the older man spoke again. “Many of the other factions have shared our concern since the Qunari’s plot to destroy the south was uncovered. If the elves were going to focus their wrath on any one…..” he shook his head. “These fears have skyrocketed since Flavius’ disappearance. We have a quorum.” He held up a stack of papers.   
Tilani smiled. “We’ve done it, Mae.” Dorian whispered to her.   
Lavellan looked between the two before Tilani clarified. “We have enough signatures to search Flavius’ house. Apparently, it was made known he had elven heritage.”  
“And how would they know that, Magister Tilani.” Lavellan smiled.   
Tilani just winked.   
“The Binder has been safely stored in the catacombs.” Another Magister spoke up. “It is under multiple barriers and heavy guard of Altus, Laetan and Soporati. It has never been breached and holds many of the most prized artifacts of the Imperium. We are surveying them to see if this other artifact is the one Inquisitor Lavellan saw in her vision.”   
“We also have several of our contacts looking into how to destroy both artifacts.” A stout little Lucerni spoke up. “However, destroying magical artifacts is both dangerous and time consuming. It could take time.” A murmur of agreement went through the group.   
“A more important question is how are we going to neutralize Fen’Harel’s agents? The Imperium’s economy is based on elven slavery. We have spent months on creating a plan to gradually phase out slavery that does not create a class of impoverished free slaves or disrupt commerce.” The middle aged woman shook her head. “The fastest plan will take 10 years. It is not feasible to imprison all the Imperium’s elven population.”  
An armored legionnaire approached the stage and waited until Dorian noticed him. He walked over and began whispering.   
“We have secured a majority of the Senate’s support to petition the Archon on regulating all elven movement. The Publicanium is jumping at this as they see it as a way to promote the fortunes of the Soporati.” Another Magister said somewhere.   
Dorian approached Tilani and whispered in her ear. Her head shot towards the legionnaire who was standing at attention.  
“Won’t regulating all elven movement just further aggravate anti-Tevinter sentiment among the elves? Not to mention the practicality…” another senator asked.   
“My fellow Magisters.” She boomed gaining everyone’s attention. “It appears there has been an incident in the search of Flavius’ home.” Turning to Lavellan who had been standing quietly with Cassandra and Olga, “I think you ought to see this, Inquisitor.”  
***  
The estate looked very different than when Lavellan had first arrived. Surrounded by guards both mage and mundane, the house was crawling with people. Lavellan followed their guide, a young Laetan in the city guard. As they approached the house, a surface dwarf came along side Olga. They fell back and then peeled off towards a back entrance.   
“We thought it best that you see this, Magisters.” The young guard addressed Dorian and Tilani. “Since you both were the primary authors on the petition.” They all walked into the main entrance towards the large hall where Flavius had greeted Solas. As they entered the hall, Lavellan stopped dead. Flavius, or what was once Flavius, knelt on the dais. He was stone like the Qunari had been when she had found Solas before, but this was different. He had been partially melted before turning stone twisting his form. He appeared to be begging whether it was for forgiveness or death, Lavellan could only guess.  
“Well my dear,”Tilani mused to no one, “It appears our friend made the Dread Wolf particularly angry.”  
“This is a little gruesome for Solas.” Dorian said. “Though I have seen him lash out before when a trusted friend was hurt.” He looked sideways at Lavellan. She shivered. It had taken all her will to prevent Solas from killing the mages that had perverted the spirit of Wisdom. She wasn’t sure what he would have done, but he had been angrier than she had ever seen.   
“It appears Justin’s death has been repaid.” Lavellan whispered.   
“Yes, it appears so.” Dorian said sadly.   
“Well, I’ve got good news and I’ve got bad news.” Olga and the other dwarf strode out from a back room. “The good news is I found the canisters of the lost lyrium shipments.. The bad news is that they’re empty.”  
“The estate is completely bereft of all artifacts, weapons and information.” The guard shook his head. “Whoever was here, made a thorough job of removing everything of value from the estate. There isn’t even enough left to determine how many people were staying here. Everything and everyone are just … gone.”  
“Sir.” A scrawny guard in full armor came from another door. “We did find this addressed to Inquisitor Lavellan. It’s in Dalish.” He held up a thin letter to the Inquisitor who accepted it.   
“They were moving via Eluvian.” She muttered absently as she opened the letter. “Did anyone see slaves moving a large object from the home?”  
“No, Ma’am.” The young guard answered. “There were so many objects being moved to be displayed in the Magisterium and Museum that no one noticed anything else.”  
He continued to give more details to Dorian and Tilani but Lavellan was glued to the paper. It wasn’t signed but she recognized the hand of her Keeper.

‘I am sorry about your treatment at the hands of Flavius. Though I cannot understand your reasoning to support the shems against Fen’Harel, I still care what happens to you. The plan had been to gather information from you and then turn you over to Fen’Harel. Given your past relationship, I knew you would not come to harm but kept away until the Veil could be torn. Flavius’ attempt to blackmail Fen’Harel and demean you was disgusting and foolish. It is clear that he was more interested in promoting his own fortunes than those of his people. He was more Magister than Elf. The Dread Wolf sent me after you when you were ordered to Flavius’ chambers. When you did not arrive, Fen’Harel suspected you were never truly under his control but had duped the Magister. He almost seemed impressed. I leave this letter to you as a final warning. Do not interfere with Fen’Harel’s plans. I do not want to hurt you but we will not let anyone stand in the way of returning the people to their rightful place.”

Of course Solas would have figured it out. Lavellan gave herself a half smile. Clever as ever.   
“Interesting reading?” Dorian asked.   
“Yes but nothing that we did not suspect already.” Lavellan answered refolding the paper. “It seems Solas figured out that I wasn’t being controlled by Flavius.”  
“Ah, well that explains why he didn’t hold back on his former ally here.”

***  
Back in their apartments, Lavellan sunk into her bed. The remains of Flavius had been disturbing to say the least but it was disappointing that nothing was left. Word of Flavius melted form had sent ripples throughout Minrathous. Regardless of how people felt about him, Flavius was a powerful Magister. If the Dread Wolf could so easily kill him, then the Magisters had something to worry about…and ally against. The researchers dove into trying to find a safe way of destroying the Binder. The lower level Altus mages combed the underground catacombs and passage ways in the island looking for the second artifact. That black spire the engineers had been constructing in the vision after the use of the Binder failed. No one seemed to recognize it despite her detailed descriptions. It was possible that some Magister had it in their private collection somewhere in the Imperium. Then there was the plan by the agent of Mythal. Something to bring the goddess back… What that could be she had no idea. Meanwhile, Dorian and Tilani plotted with the Magisterium to figure out how to stop the threat to their city. The Archon was apparently concerned but they needed a ratified plan before they could approach him. The Senate would be busy tonight.   
Lavellan, on the other hand, received a well-needed break. Cassandra and Olga were sparring out in the yard. Now that the city knew she was here, there was no need for secrecy. It seemed like the Imperium was finally working with the Inquisition. Or what was left of the Inquisition.   
Settling down into bed, Lavellan drifted off to sleep. Having not been in the Fade for weeks, the transition happened quickly as if her mind was desperate to re-connect to it. She had been thinking about the Keeper when she fell asleep and somehow that drew them to each other.  
Levallen found that she was listening to the conversation of the Keeper with a few other elves. At first she thought it was part of a regular dream but then she realized the elves were ignoring their surroundings and even changing it based on their needs. She listened intently.   
Plans. They were talking about striking after the Veil was torn…a distraction before to prevent Inquisition and Tevinter forces from stopping the ritual …all the missing elves from Thedas were in Minrathous. They would focus on the Archon …  
She tried to edge closer to hear better when she heard a growl. She froze for a moment. Turning around she saw a very large wolf starring at her from less then 10 paces.   
“Solas.” She whispered but before she could say anything else he lunged at her and everything went black.


	11. The Fade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lavellan and Solas briefly reunite before he tries to destroy the world.

Birds chirped as Lavellen stirred in the warm glow of a sinking sun. She lay stretched on her belly on a soft coach with her arms lazily draped in front of her. The air was light and warm relaxing all of her muscles, and she felt a peace she had not felt in years. Still half asleep, she felt warm oil drip onto her bare back and two hands began massaging her shoulders. Solas’ voice murmured something in Elvish. She sighed.  
Slowly, she opened her eyes and lifted her head. Before her sat a large window in a wall of pale, smooth wood. The tree seemed to have formed around the large window instead of it being a cut out hole. It was the view, however, that made her gasp. Her room towered above the surrounding landscape of wild woods. In the distance, she could see what appeared to be a city springing from the very earth mingled among the trees and reaching the sky. Great tendrils of shadowy paths twisted between the trees and into nothingness. Light emanated from amongst those far off branches and from them she could hear a distant music that seemed to come not from the city but the sky above it as bright shapes darted between mirage-like structures hanging in the air. Structures that looked like they belonged to the Fade.  
It was a tinkling that caused Lavellan to realize that she was on all fours leaning towards the window with her mouth open. The sound came from her hair as it fell over her shoulders. Reaching back, she found her hair hung in ropes of braids adorned with small crystals. Her dress, if you could call it that, was gossamer and hung from a silver circlet around her neck with a bare back and arms. The white material flowed loosely down her front and wrapped around her waist. It floated in the air as she moved and blurred her form just enough for modesty’s sake. One hand was still on her back. Looking over her right shoulder, her heart leaped into her throat.  
“It was a true pleasure to see your dream. But I wanted...” Solas removed his hand and began to reach for hers but stopped short. He sat perched on the edge of the couch. He wore a long robe from the same material her dress was made from but it was tied at the waist with a silver belt. Around his throat he had a silver collar with wolves twisted into the metal. He starred longingly out the window towards the city.  
“I wanted to show you your dream as it should have been…as it could be.” He tore his eyes from the vision out the window and back to Lavellan. He leaned toward her but again seemed to hesitate. He looked down at her hand again. When he looked up his face was hard and eyes piercing.  
“Did he hurt you? Magister Flavius … did he…”  
“No, “ Lavellan answered softly looking away suddenly embarrassed. “He never touched me.” With a small smile she looked back up to Solas. “My pride, on the other hand, was not so lucky.”  
Solas’ face softened with a look of admiration as he leaned back. “Your plan was well executed. At first I thought you had truly been captured, but when Flavius told me how he acquired you…” A small smile spread across his face, “He clearly did not know you. To let vanity put you at risk…”  
“You can thank Dorian for that. He has the most interesting contacts.”  
“But he was not the one who spirited the Binder away from a Magister while under guard.”  
Lavellan’s mouth went dry. He knew?! Did he know where? Did he know about the second artifact….the sharp spire?  
Solas’ body was relaxed but his eyes were searching her face. She tried her hardest to keep her face relaxed like Varric did during Wicked Grace.  
“Well, I am a woman of many talents.” She stood up from the couch and tried not to gasp at how the gentle breeze seemed to flow through the fabric. She had to double check to make sure she was wearing clothes. She walked towards the window. Solas stood and followed her. 

“Vehnan” he whispered in her ear as he took her hand. He tucked the stray hairs behind her ear with the other hand as she looked up towards him. It lingered at the corner of her jaw then his fingertips grazed down her neck before resting on her shoulder. He inched his way closer and she found herself drawing towards him as well. Her heart was beating out of her chest and she tried not to tremble. She had been trying to get close to him for months and now he was here, and she was terrified to open her mouth. They had been so careful, and he knew they had taken the Binder. How long before he figured out where? Her body, however, was failing her. Being this close to him, her adrenaline coursed through her body as she began to breathe heavily. Her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth. His head dipped down and locked her into a kiss. His hand from the shoulder went to the back of the neck and the other hand came to the small of her back. Her hands wrapped around his neck.  
After several minutes, they broke away. Their foreheads and hips touching as he held tight to her waist and she to his neck. Both were breathing hard.  
“I have missed you, Vehnan. I had to see you one last time.” Lavellan pulled back immediately and looked hard at his face.  
“You doing it tonight, aren’t you?” She rushed. He looked down at the floor. Grabbing him by the shoulders she forced him to look at her.  
“Solas, you can’t! This” she motioned to the window, “Is gone. It is never coming back. No matter how hard you try or will it, Arlathan is over. It will never be the same. You are not responsible for our fall. WE are. We chose to fight amongst ourselves. We chose to flee instead of fight for our homes, and we chose to break the peace leading to the loss of the Dales. Yes, humans are also partially to blame but we were not bystanders in our own history. How many died being trapped between worlds when the Veil was formed? How many more will die when it is torn? The surface dwarves will. Who else?”  
She was yelling now and he stood mute. When she was done, he said nothing for a time and looked at her. “You will be safer here. Sleeping with your mind in the Fade will buffer you from the effects of tearing the Veil.”  
She tried to wake up. She tried as hard as she could but it was like a bubble surrounded the room they were in. She pulled away from him.  
“Solas, please!”  
“I’m sorry. I know you will try to interfere and I don’t want to lose you. This is all I can give you. The best chance to survive.” His face then became resolute and grim. Somehow in that instant, he was back in his elvish armor. He stood up straight with his hands behind his back.  
“I am also sorry for this. Where is the Binder?”  
Lavellan’s body jolted. She gritted her teeth as she felt the compulsion of the Well. How could Solas use it? He was not Mythal.  
“Where is the Binder?”  
“The storage room under the Senate.” The answer came in a burst of strangled sounds as she tried to hold it back.  
“Thank y…”  
“Betrayal and pain. Death for death…”  
Solas whirled to his right. Cole stood on the other side of the room. He walked forward between them. “She didn’t want it then and she doesn’t want it now.” Solas seemed caught off guard. In that instant, Cole reached out a hand towards Lavellan.  
“Go.”

Lavellan jolted straight up in bed drenched in a cold sweat. From outside her door, the sounds of Cassandra and Olga coming in from their sparring echoed down the hall. She hadn’t been asleep that long. The sun was just starting to sink. Throwing herself out of bed, she ran to the door and flew into the other room.  
“Cassandra! Olga! Get Dorian and Mae. Solas is making his move tonight. He knows where the Binder is!”

 

Half an hour later, Cassandra, Dorian, Olga and Lavellan were in a coach clattering to a stop in front of the Archon’s estate. Tilani stood regally at the door in a stunning black and green gown only the subtle strain in her eyes gave away her unease. As she met them, she whispered to Dorian before heading to the door.  
“There is an issue.” Dorian whispered to the women. “The elven servants for the Archon have gone missing. Slaves are being reported missing all over the city.”  
They followed Tilani into the estate where soldiers and apprentices bustled back and forth. A senior Magister approached the party. Lavellan recognized him as one of the Lucerni from her visit to the Senate.  
“The Archon is in his study in the tower. With the servants gone missing, he is preparing the city’s defenses and security. I’ve arranged for us to meet him given” he indicated towards Lavellan.  
“Inquisitor Lavellan.” Dorian smoothly filled in the gap.  
“Yes..ah.. the Inquisitor. Given her history and knowledge of Fen’Harel.”  
They climbed a grand stair case quickly and went down a long corridor towards the tower. Taking another flight of stairs, the next landing was filled with guards both mundane and magical. A tall arched door of heavy dark wood was cracked open allowing the sound of hurried voices to escape.  
The party wove its way through the throng of protectors and door and into the office. The office looked more like a museum. Ancient artifacts human, elven and dwarven lined the walls. Several cats lay curled up between the relics. At the far left end was a desk surrounded by shelves overflowing with books. A middle aged man in black silk robes and a thin circlet made of emerald on his head stood beside the desk pouring over maps with two other armored men. Dorian, Tilani and the Lucerni approached the desk.  
Lavellan did not hear what they had to say. Her eyes were drawn to the other end of the office. In a corner stood three eluvians surrounding a tall, black spire.  
“That’s it!” Lavellan cried causing all the members in the room to go silent. She whirled to look towards Dorian. They were all staring at her.  
“That’s it. The second item to tear the Veil. The item that the elves were working on in the Bracilian forests during the fall of the elvish empire. It was here the whole time.”  
“It was a trophy.” The middle aged man replied. “The mirrors and the spire along with eluvians were brought back by one of my ancestors who helped sink Arlathan.” He walked around the desk and came to stand by Lavellan.  
“You must be the Inquistor. Archon Radonis.” He nodded towards her. “And you have been most invaluable into helping us fight the Dread Wolf.” He gave a cock of the just so slightly. “I am surprised that a former Dalish would fight against the Fen’Harel to return the power of Arlathan.” It almost seemed more of a question than a statement.  
“Arlathan is over. When I learned about the fall of the Dales, the true reason for the falls, I opened my mind. The more I learned about the ancient elves, the more ashamed I became. We curse Tevinter, but we were no different.” She was quite for moment looking back at the spire. “Many people died during the Veil’s creation and many will die when it is torn.” She looked back to the Archon. “I did not risk my life to save the world from the breach to let it burn now.”  
Radonis studied her face for a moment as if he could measure her words.  
“Inquis…”  
An explosion shattered the night. Every one ran to the window. Large billows of black smoke were rising into the air and screaming could be heard.  
“It’s the Embassy!” Tilani yelled.  
“They may be trying to seize the lyrium stores.” Radonis yelled. He turned to the armored officials. “Take several squads down and secure the Embassy. Make sure no elf is allowed in or out alive. Take another set and secure the Senate. We can’t let them break into the vaults below. Besides the Binder there are numerous other artifacts they could utilize.”  
Tilani and Dorian gave a quick look to one another. “Archon, I humbly request to go to the Senate to help with the fortifications.” Tilani ventured.  
“Yes Magister Tilani, that would be of great help.” He turned to Dorian and the Lucerni. “We need to organize the Magisters.”  
They turned to walk out of the room. As the left, the archon turned to the platoon of men. “Secure this door. For your lives, no one goes in save myself is that clear.”  
The lead officer bowed in response.  
“What is ‘organize the Magisters?” Asked Cassandra.  
“All Magisters are roused to protect the city in a time of crisis.” Dorian answered as they went down the stairs. “All Magisters are powerful mages fully equipped in defense and destructive spells. Given the risk of attacks on the Archon’s office and the Senate…”  
“Hey! Can I say something?” Up until that point Olga had been trying to get everyone’s attention. They stopped halfway down the hallway and looked at the dwarf.  
“Those billows of smoke we saw, couldn’t have been coming from the Lyrium vaults. It would have been an attack at the main entrance of the Embassy.”  
The humans looked at one another confused. Olga looked at them like they were stupid.  
“Those big ass stone doors at the front… ever notice those? They are located 100 paces inside the main entrance. They shut immediately at the sign of attack and seal. They are ancient. Hordes of Darkspawn including emissaries can’t break through those doors. A bunch of elves sure can’t either. If there is smoke coming from the entrance, it means they are likely trying to break through the doors which they won’t be able to do. If those doors shut, they aren’t opening. No one is going in or out. “  
“It doesn’t mean they aren’t trying, Olga.” Cassandra answered.  
“Look, if this wolf guy is as smart and old as you say he is, he would know this would be doomed. Even if they made it too the vaults, the first sign of trouble and the main doors would be closed. The Embassy has been on high alert ever since some of the shipments went missing. It’s a distraction.”  
Suddenly everything clicked for Lavellan. “We’re idiots.” She turned to the Archon. “The vaults under the senate. Are the eluvians stored there like in your office?”  
“Some, of course.” Both Dorian and Cassandra gasped but the other two magisters looked confused. “Eluvians’ are used for travel, Archon.” Dorian interjected. “We learned this during our time on the Exalted counsel.”  
“They don’t need to get through the defenses. They just need to go through the Eluvians.” Lavellan cried began running towards the office again.  
“I read your report, Parvus,” Radonis looked annoyed, “But, it has never been definitely proven that all eluvians were used for the same thing. The three in the vaults were deemed defunct centuries ago. Two Magisters died trying to reactivate them in the Black Age, which is why they were relegated to the vaults in the first place. “ He straightened his robes and turned to Lavellan. “It should also be noted that many in the Senate believe the claims that the Eluvians were used so extensively for travel was just Orlesian fiction to hide their incompetency. Allowing Qunari to breach Halam’shiral’s defenses would be a disgrace to the Chevaliers. The Imperium spent centuries researching the mirrors and the best we could tell they were used for communication only! However, to be cautious, any eluvian that was felt could be reactivated had wards placed on it. I set the ones in my office personally”  
“You what?!” was all Levallan got out before she began running back down the hall.  
“Archon, we need to smash those things. Now.” Dorian’s voice yelled.  
“Dorian. Lucius. Get to the Senate and notify them immediately.” Archon’s voice trailed behind Lavellan as she climbed two stairs at a time. Cassandra and Olga were just behind her. When she reached the landing she stopped short.  
The group of soldiers and mages lay dead in a pile next to the door outside of the office.  
“By the Ancestors!” Olga breathed. The bodies were smoking and smelled charred. Sounds and voices could be heard from behind the doors.  
“They must have tried to go into the office.” Lavellan turned seeing the Archon staring at the door. He approached it slowly and seemed to be studying the air in front of it. “I know this.” He whispered to himself after a while.  
“What is it?” Lavellan asked. Radonis seemed lost in thought as he answered. “My office is filled with elven artifacts because it was my area of study at university. In particular ward spells of the ancient elves. It is why I assumed the possibly active eluvians were made safe.” His voice trailed off for a moment.  
“Do you believe in fate, Inquisitor?” Radonis asked softly still staring at the door.  
“Excuse me?” She was confused.  
He turned back to her. “A different ward replaced mine over this door. It is rare and ancient but very strong. Only three people, I wager, know how to break it: Fen’harel, that leader from Mythal's temple and me. It also requires a substantial amount of blood to break through it.” He set his jaw as he looked back to the door. Cassandra and Olga shifted.  
“You meant what you said about standing against Fen’Harel? If the veil tears and the elves regain power, Tevinter is where they will have their revenge first.” His stare was hard and bore through her.  
“I do stand against this. And you are right. All elves would rejoice in Tevinter’s fall.”  
He nodded and turned back to the door. “Save the veil, Inquisitor. Save Tevinter.”  
With that, Radonis pulled a knife from his belt. He started murmuring words and the tingle of magic permeated the room. It seemed to swell and then Radonis slit his own throat. He threw his hands towards the door as his blood and magic burned through the binding on the door and it flew open. The Archon fell to the floor.  
Yelling could be heard at the base of the stairs.  
“I’ll guard your backs.” Olga said adjusting her hammer.  
Cassandra and Lavellan rushed into the office. There one of the Eluvians glowed. Solas and two of the ancient looking elves dressed in armor with the sigil of Fen’Harel stood around the spire. It glowed. Three other elves stood around them and turned towards the intruders. They were Dalish.  
From the window, Lavellan could see hundreds of beams of light traveling into the sky. The elven artifacts she had activated were pulling at the veil. A film seemed to have appeared above the clouds. Like a great sheet being pulled, it looked to be buckling and straining in but it did not fall or tear.  
“Solas, no!” Lavellan screamed as Cassandra tried to dispel the magic but it failed. Then the spire shot a burst into the sky.  
The veil tore.  
Everything went black. 

**********

The wolf dropped to the ground. Dead or exhausted was unclear. Regardless he was down. Like a coiled spring, the dragon launched forwards.


	12. The Veil Asunder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Veil is down and Lavellan must confront Solas. The final chapter.

The Veil Asunder

Pain. Bright, hot, burning pain seared through each nerve in Lavellan’s body. Every fiber of filled with energy. Like a leaf on the surface of a rapid, the raw power of the Fade threatened to consume her. It took all of her years of training to ride the ebb and flow of magic. Slowly, the overwhelming force eased as she learned how to control the flow. Magic that had needed to be pulled into her now merged with her very body. Weakly, she opened her eyes.   
She looked down at the stones under her hands and felt their age. The passing of hundreds of boots and the emotions of the wearers flitted across her mind’s eye. She had to close her mind to prevent images from flooding her vision. The rippling of the Fade reaching through the falling Veil felt like a breeze on her skin. She felt another consciousness stir. Turning to her left, she saw Cassandra. Glassy eyes staring forward with blood trailing from her nose, mouth and ears. She wasn’t breathing. Letting out a sob, Lavellan reached for the Seeker when the consciousness that caught her attention took on a vengeful quality. Looking up, she saw the two elves dressed in ancient armor lying lifeless on either end of the spire. Solas was also sprawled on his belly but breathing. Two of the Dalish were also dead but the third was where the anger emanated from. Blood dripped from his nose, yet he somehow managed to control its fury naturally. He had not been a mage before, but Lavellan could feel magic pulsing in him now. He was having trouble with his new founds power, but his hatred for her overrode his fear of the change raging in him.   
The ground shook underneath them as booming bangs sounded. Smaller thuds followed booms with small quakes. Something old had awakened. Something … Dwarven? She shook her head.   
As she tried to steady herself, a wave of nausea swept over her. Something decaying and dying approached. The feeling of rot married with extreme power grew, and Lavellan hurriedly rolled over to face the new threat. The Dalish took her distraction as an opportunity. Bow in hand he tried to fire but as soon as he attempted to sit up a soul crushing weakness over took him, and he collapsed back down. The arrow struck far from its target. Lavellan was hesitant to use her magic as she could still feel the wild power just barely under her control. She wasn’t sure she could control it. The Dalish looked like he was going to attempt again. Lavellan tried to move but her limbs felt like lead and moving her head caused the world to swim. He knocked an arrow…  
A blast of fire obliterated him in half a heartbeat. The corrupted thing had arrived. Turning to the door, she saw a woman with a sword in her right hand extended in front of her. Her weapon and gauntlet still smoked from the blast. Breastplate gleaming with two griffons facing away from each other, the Warden’s left arm wrapped around Morrigan who hung limply at her side but the witch clutched a wrapped item desperately to her chest.   
Lavellan could feel the power entwined with physical strength coming from the Warden. The technique was ancient elven, and she seemed to handle the new raw power with ease. Lavellan knew enough to recognize an Arcane warrior stance. All masters of the Arcane discipline were dead save one: The Hero of Ferelden. The Hero of Ferelden had learned the art from an unknown source and wedded it to the training of the Battle Mage. Her skill was legendary.   
Sheathing her sword, the Warden gently helped Morrigan to the floor then walked over to Lavellan.   
“Are you all right, Inquisitor?” She slowly lifted the elf up by the shoulders and dragged her over to where Morrigan was propped up against the wall.   
“Yes, thank you. How did you know who I was?”   
“The mark from the orb has changed your body, Inquisitor,” Morrigan answered, “I recognized it after the veil sundered and directed Amell to you. She is the famed Hero of Ferleden”  
The two women smiled weakly at each other but the Warden was staring towards the elves on the floor. Her face was hard with green eyes piercing. She stalked over to Solas. She likely sensed he was the only one alive.   
“This is him.” It was a statement. She glared down at him. Sadness, emptiness and anger rolled off the Warden. A feeling of tremendous loss and …  
“It was Cullen.” Lavellan said incredulously. “He’s why you’re angry.” Amell’s stare did not waver. Her face a stony mask.  
“The Commander did not survive the tearing nor would it seem most non-magic users.” Morrigan whispered.  
“Save elves and wardens.” Amell answered coldly. “It appears elves are better able to hand the Fade’s power so some non-mages survived too. Wardens for whatever reason seem to be completely immune.”   
“I wonder if Solas knew.” Lavellan thought aloud. “Or if he thought the People would be spared but not the humans.”  
“It appears another one of the Dread Wolf’s marvelously well formulated plans has once again failed.” Amell spat while giving a quick small kick to Solas’ stomach. “Putting up the Veil, giving the orb to a darkspawn and now this. The largest population and only working government now remaining is Tevinter. Oh and the Grey Wardens but if we are immune to the Fade’s effects my guess is so are the Darkspawn.” She shook her head. The irony was not lost. The most hated land by all the elves was now not only the last one standing but poised to reclaim the known world. All non-elven magic users would likely flock here.   
Putting her hands on her hips, Amell sighed before looking up at Morrigan. The sad look on her face was heart breaking. Another loud boom shook the room but the roaring didn’t seem to reach the Hero. “Well Witch of the Wilds, what do we do now?”   
“Giving up so early, Warden?”  
Flemeth’s voiced curled around them tumbling from the mouth of Solas. The words caught Amell off guard who visibly jumped. All three stared as Solas stood and looked towards the Warden.  
“It appears I was wrong. It is a pleasure to see you again Warden Commander. I knew plucking you from that tower would prove useful.”  
Flemeth’s voice was clear, and Amell’s mouth hung open.   
“Or have you come to kill me over another book?” Solas-Mythal raised an eyebrow.  
“Flemeth?” Amell whispered incredulously.   
“Mother!” Morrigan croaked and tried to stand but fell back down.   
“It’s all right girl. I’m not going to swoop down on you while you are vulnerable.”   
For whatever reason Amell blinked a few times then seemed to suppress a smile at that.   
Flemeth walked over to where Morrigan and Lavellan sat and knelt between them while Amell cautiously followed.  
“My priests held to their duties.” She reached for the package in Morrigans hands. Lavellan could sense magic, old magic, and a woman’s presence associated it. Flemeth/Solas smiled at her.   
“Yes, this was what my disciple was working on. It was meant for Abelas to collect but that day never came.” Unwrapping the sheet, she revealed a black polished disc the size of a dinner plate. Flemeth walked back over to the spire and placed it in a matching indention on the north facing side of the spire. The two melded together.   
“It was meant to be bring you back. How could it do that?” Lavellan asked as she gently stood up. She didn’t feel like she needed to vomit now.   
“Time magic but time is a steady river. The waters can be reversed with a strong force but only for a short distance. With the Veil, they never would have been able to channel enough power to reverse the flow to save me.”   
“Can they now?” Morrigan said dryly. “Was this your plan? To reverse time to before your murder?”  
Flemath laughed. “I am powerful but that would take an act of a true god. No, but to reverse but a short time is possible.”  
Amell slowly nodded. “We were just outside the embassy when the veil tore.” Turning to Lavellan, she continued. “Abelas and the others from Mythal’s Temple arrived with Morrigan to find this. They were with my wardens when we arrived but we were barred from entering the city for some time.”  
“Inquisitor,”Flemeth continued, “The pull of the Well will withstand the flows of time. You will not remember what transpired here but you will know how to stop it.”   
“Why are you doing this?” Amell’s eyes narrowed. “The Venitori showed us that time magic is highly unstable. There is a great risk associated with this and why would you not want the return of your People? Why else would you merge with Solas?” Amell seemed to surge with more power as if readying for a fight.  
“Clever girl.” Flemeth smiled. “Those are excellent questions but the answers would lead to many more. In short, the Veil ruined this world. It destroyed the Elves and Dwarves while the humans lost themselves. All while trapping an evil that should never have come.” Flemeth looked sadly out the window. “The Blight can be harnessed but not destroyed. I have done my best but for how much longer?”  
She was now musing to herself as the women darted glances to each other.   
Another sense of approaching decay and rot came towards them. They all turned towards the door as a dark haired and eyed warden entered. She blinked at Solas standing there and gave a questioning look to Amell who nodded.   
“Commander,” the warden started. “We are suffering losses. The dwarven juggernauts are keeping the larger ones at bay but I’m not sure how much longer they can hold. The magisters area starting to regain their senses and help but the elves are hindering us.”

“Thank you, Bethany.” Amell answered. “It would seem those golems were the best gift Orzammer has ever given Minrathous. They’ve kept the demons back long enough for the Magisters to regroup.” Another booming thud echoed across the room. “If only being a golem wasn’t so noisy.” She sounded as if she spoke for personal experience. “But, it appears we may have a better plan than magisters and golems.”  
Flemeth smiled. “Fate or luck again. Either way your timing is perfect. I hope your family is well.”   
Bethany gasped at recognition of the voice emanating from Solas’ mouth. Apparently, Flemeth had interfered with everyone.   
“Ladies, would you be so kind as to surround the spire.” It wasn’t a question that left the elf’s mouth. Morrigan, Amell, Bethany and Lavellan stood in a circle. “You all are familiar, I assume, with augmenting a barrier?”   
The women nodded. “Good. The same is applied here. Focus the energy towards the spire. I unfortunately will not be able to help you.”  
“Mother, I’m sorry.” Morrigan blurted out. “I’m sorry for…”  
“Shh,” Flemeth touched her shoulder. “I know, girl. I know.”  
Flemeth strode towards Lavellan and held her face in her hands. Eyes glowing a compelling force filled Lavellen. Suddenly Flemeth dropped to the floor.  
“Now!” Amell ordered and the mages flooded magic onto the spire. It felt greedy trying to pull the magic from the women. The rate of flow became faster and faster. It took a great amount of concentration to prevent from being torn apart. The rumbles and quakes from the golems outside made it difficult to stand as the thuds became desperate. Slowly the spire began to glow.   
“Vehnon?” This time it was Solas’ voice. She looked down at him while trying to maintain her focus. He turned is eyes towards the three humans around the spire.  
“What are they doing?!” He yelled and started to rise but Lavellan tackled him to the ground. The other women seemed to flinch briefly as she broke her connection.  
“My love, it’s over. The Veil is torn and the People…we can save the elves but we need to stop them.” He cried desperately.   
“Don’t you dare, Inquisitor!” Amell’s voice sounded strained. She was visibly sweating. Bethany was nearly falling over and Morrigan looked like she may be sick. “I swear, Lavellan if you side with him…” She broke off as the spire demanded more of her focus.   
Lavellan forgave the Hero’s anger. Her people were being decimated by demons and she lost the person she loved. Lavellan understood that all too well.   
“I love you, Solas.” Lavellan whispered. He touched her face gently and touched his forehead to hers. Slowly he rolled from underneath her and stood up unsteadily. He turned back towards the mages.  
“But, I hate the Dread Wolf.” She snarled and stabbed Solas’ lungs with a dagger from her belt. He gasped as the air rushed out of his lungs. Everything seemed to be moving slowly. His Mind Blast was feeble but knocked her back but she seemed to be floating to the floor.   
The world blurred. 

 

 

Lavellan paused. She was almost fully dressed but something was off. Shaking her head, Lavellan turned back to her belt. Cole had given her the opportunity to escape Solas’ trap and warn the others. She wasn’t going to waste it. A thought suddenly struck her. What if…She tore out of her room and up the steps to the main courtyard of the estate. Dorian was talking furiously with another mage while Cassandra and Olga were checking their weapons.   
“Dorian!” Lavellan screamed startling the party. “Are there any eluvians in the vaults below the senate? If so, Solas can use them to get to the Binder.”  
Dorian shook his head. “No, my dear, there are no eluvians in the vaults. Most were in personal collections that we destroyed once we learned of their potential use. Besides we…” Dorian’s eyes widened as he trailed off and smacked his forehead. “Of course they had the elvish slaves take an inventory.”  
“Magister Pavus,” the other mage interjected. “The Archon moved some of his down there as well but he said they were safe.” The mage seemed to stutter at this as if he were unsure he should be talking about it.   
“Really?” Olga snorted. “A magister thinks he can out master an ancient elven god?” Turning to Dorian, “You Tevinters really are masters of arrogance.”   
“Destroying the eluvians won’t hurt.” Dorian cut the conversation off and turned to the mage. “Go to Mae and tell her to take 4-5 Lucerni to the vaults and smash any eluvian she can find. We’re going to the Archon.” 

 

 

 

In short order, the group thundered down the streets of Minrathous. Lavellan could not shake the feeling that this had happened before. When they arrived, Lavellan jumped out of the carriage with Dorian close on her heels. Entering the estate, a mage approached Dorian.  
“Magister Pavus,” the mage said. “I’m sorry there is no one to great you but the elvish slaves have gone missing …”   
“I’m so sorry dear fellow but I don’t have the time for pleasantries. Did Archon Radonis move all of his eluvians to the vaults?”   
After some sputtering, the mage revealed he had but there were some still on the premise but had been assured of their safety by the Archon himself. Eventually, Dorian and the others were led to the Archon. Again, Lavellan seemed to recognize her surroundings: up the grand staircase to the second floor walking down the hall and up another set of stairs leading to the Archon’s office. She even knew how many soldiers would be standing outside the Archon’s office.   
“Enter.” A voice called as the groups guide knocked on the door.   
Archon Radonis was standing at his table looking over maps with several other older men.   
“Inquisitor Lavellan, Harold of Andraste, Savior of Orlais….” As the head of their escort began introductions, Lavellan felt a prickling between her shoulder blades. Turning to look at the back of the room she saw it. The black spire standing there and behind it something tall covered in a black cloth. Turning on her heels, she strode straight to the back of the office before anyone could stop her. The introductions stopped as she gingerly lifted the curtain away revealing the mirror.   
Cassandra cursed under her breath as Dorian started to address the Archon. Grabbing a close sitting candelabra, Lavellan smashed the mirrors in small pieces before the guards dragged her away.   
“What are you doing?!” Radonis had somehow thrown himself across the room and right into her face when she turned around. He was red and seething. His hand grabbed her wrist and shoved her against the ruined mirror. Dorian, Cassandra and Olga started towards her but the guards from outside had heard their master yell and intercepted them. “Those eluvians have been in my family for…”  
“They’re gateways.” Lavellan interjected.   
“ I know.” He roared. “I warded them. They are safe. I am the leading expert in elvan...”

“He’s banking on that,” she screamed. She wasn’t typically this aggressive but a well of emotions were bubbling up inside her. She didn’t even know where it came from. “He’s one of the most powerful ancient elves. Strong enough to put up the Veil and capture the other elvan pantheon. Do you really think he wouldn’t be able to break through? Is your pride more important than protecting Tevinter?”  
This seemed to be the right thing to say as he blinked and let go of her hand.   
“No, Lady Inquisitor, it isn’t.” Slowly he turned to his guards barring the others from the Archon. “There are two others in the house in my personal chambers. Destroy them.”  
“We will send some…” the guard started  
“No, you go now! If those blasted knife ears get through I’m as good as dead anyways.”  
As if to punctuate his response, an explosion came from the central square.   
“That was the Dwarven embassy” Olga shouted lumbering to the window. “It came from the doors.”  
“The elves must be trying to get at the lyrium stores. We…” but Lavellan cut Radonis off.   
“Olga, what are your thoughts?” Lavellan interjected. Everyone stopped as Olga was thrown off by Lavellan’s forcefulness.   
“If this elf knows as much as he seems to then it’s a ploy. As soon as the explosions are set off, the doors close and no one save a fleet of golems are going to break through it. Standard dwarven stone work. That lyrium isn’t going anywhere.”   
The room was silent. “We’ll still send a patrol to investigate.” Radonis nodded to one of the men at the table who bowed and started to leave the room. “Oh, Gius, please have one of your students activate the juggernauts. I feel the city may need their protection.”  
Olga smiled like an imp and started punching her hand into her palm.   
“Waking the protectors of the Minrathous is a smart move but it does not answer the main question: A diversion from what?” Cassandra asked. “An attack on …” she looked at the elf.   
Light gleamed in from the windows. Thousands of beams of light stretched towards the sky and seemed to pull a film from the heavens creating transparent domes that shimmered.  
“He has the Binder.” Lavallen answered everyone’s unspoken question. “Weren’t the eluvians you sent to the vaults warded?” The tone was more of a statement. The Archon stared at her then nodded. He turned to the detachment of guards that had escorted Lavellan and the others to the Archon.   
“We best guard these doors.” Dorian thought allowed looking at the spire. “If he’s initiated the Binder, he’ll be coming for that. Andraste’s arse, I hope Mae and the others are alright. They clearly didn’t get there in time.”   
“Speak man, don’t just gawk. We’re in a state of emergency.” The Archon yelled at a page who had been standing quietly by the door and jumped at being yelled at.   
“Archon, we’ve received word from the gates that the Hero of Fereldon was demanding entrance into the city. She is accompanied by a battalion of wardens and… elves.” The page looked nervously at Lavellan before continuing. “They were denied entrance, but when the elves were reported as missing, the guard captain let then enter since they claimed they were here to help the Inquisitor.”   
“The Hero of Ferelden?” The Archon seemed impressed and surprised. “An Arcane Warrior here now, that can’t be a coincidence.” He looked behind the page.   
“With elves? Isn’t that the last group we want here? No offense Inquisitor.” Olga smiled   
Shouts echoed down the corridor. For a split second, everyone looked at each other before heading towards the door. At the top of the flight of stairs, Lavellan could see a group of wardens making short work of a group of Dalish. One mage seemed to disappear in and out while blasting electricity and fire all around.   
“The Hero of Ferelden.” Radonis walked down slowly as a warden killed the last Dalish. “You may have to add Tevinter to your title.” Amell seemed unaffected by meeting the most influential mage in Thedas but gave a nod of her head before starting.   
“Archon, those Dalish entered from a side entrance. They likely had inside help getting in. They seemed to be looking for something.”   
“We broke the Wolf’s way into the mansion.” Olga smiled. “I’m just waiting for the golems to get here. Then it will be a lot more fun.”   
Amell seemed a little confused as Morrigan glided around the wardens and up to the Inquisitor.   
“We meet again Inquisitor, and I come with something I was told you would know how to use.” Morrigan smiled and held out an object to Lavellan. Instinctively she unwrapped the package. A round black disc. An urge came over the Inquisitor as she turned around and walked back into the office. She could hear Amell speaking to the Archon as they followed.  
“Commander Rutherford is with another group of wardens scouting the perimeter of the building. I have elves from the Temple of Mythal, you’ve heard of them, they went to the vaults. They hope to prevent the agents of Fen’Harel from using any ancient elvan artifacts and perhaps use some themselves.”   
Walking towards the spire, Lavellan could almost see an indentation on the south side of the spire. Without thinking, she cast a spell on the disc. It happened so quickly Lavellan did not think she could reproduce it if she tried. The disc glowed momentarily and then seemed to slightly vibrate. Placing it in the indention, the plate melded with the surface. Something seemed to shift inside the artifact.  
A bright light flashed outside the office door. Cassandra, who had just entered the room, turned to the exit when a shield bashed her in the face knocking her to the ground. Three ancient looking elves entered the room wearing the symbol of Fen’Harel. Lavellan wondered if they had slept along with Solas from the civil war with the other gods.  
The Hero suddenly appeared from her Fade cloak and surprised the elves. Solas’ eyes glowed but Amell seemed to slow only slightly. It was enough though. One of the elves placed a mass paralysis on the room. “Wait.” Called a voice. A very familiar voice. The three parted as Solas entered followed by three Dalish elves. He looked softly down at Cassandra and stepped over her.   
“So, this is the famed Hero of Ferelden.” He walked over to the frozen Warden he seemed to manage a glare even paralyzed. “I’m sorry we had to meet under such circumstances. You truly seem to be gifted. I will ask you later where you learned our abilities.” Slowly he turned towards Lavellan who was still next to the spire. His eyes drifted up to the broken eluvian.   
“Well done though the destruction is regrettable.” He smiled at her sadly. “The guards were not able to destroy the other Eluvian before my people located and secured it. You have fought well, Vehnon.”   
“What happened to Dorian and the wardens?”   
“They are no longer a threat. Now please stand aside. I wish for no more bloodshed.”   
Careful not to look at the spire she walked over to Amell and gave her a reassuring look. Somehow she was at peace.   
Solas and the ancient agents of Fenharal started powering power into the spire while the three Dalish stood between her and Fen’harel. As they did the spire started to glow white as heat began wafting through the room. The smell of burning sulfur came with it.   
Solas seemed concerned and then his eyes widened. “STOP!” he yelled but it was too late. An electrical charged hit all four in the chest and they went down. The paralysis evaporated   
Without hesitating, Amell threw virulent bomb followed by chain lighting and cone of fire in rapid succession killing the three Dalish. Groaning came from the hallway. The elvan magic had released those outside.  
“The power those elves wielded.” Amell shook her head. “I don’t think any of us could have stood a chance.”   
Lavellan was not paying attention. She slowly walked over to the elves. The three ancient elves were dead. She hesitated and then knelt down by Solas.   
She sighed. “He’s breathing.”  
Solas sat on a hill looking down towards Minrathous. Lavellan slowly approached. She had not talked to him much since the attack on Minrathous. He stared sadly at the city as Lavellan sat down next to him.   
“How are you?” She whispered.   
He closed his eyes and just sat for a minute. “I can feel it. The Fade. I can feel it on my skin but…”   
“You’re lucky you were on trial by a group of mages who understood the depth of your pain.”  
“I’d rather have died.”  
“They are very aware of that. It is why you live.”  
A soft warm breeze was blowing as the sinking sun cast long shadows.   
“What was the final verdict?” Solas asked slowly.   
“Well, the Lucerni argued that Minrathous was vulnerable due to the practice of slavery. Via the ambassadors, both Ferelden and Orlais agree that the impoverished conditions of the elves allowed for you to sway them. Thanks to pressure from the Divine, they are giving the elves back the Dales.”  
Lavellan snuck a look at Solas who just nodded. She continued. “After you passed out, Mythal’s spirit left you and was greeted whole heartedly by Morrigan. She, Abelas and the rest of Mythal’s servants are going to help lead the elves back to Dirth and teach them about their true past and help them regain some of their knowledge. The elves need to start looking forward not back.” After a moment of silence, she whispered, “Many of your main co-conspirators have been executed.” She added this last part softly as his shoulders sagged.   
“I should have been the one to die not them.”  
“A part of you did.”  
“To lose my connection to Fade. To lose all magical abilities.” He just closed his eyes his face lined with sadness. Lavellan couldn’t help but feeling a little guilty. Though Morrigan/Mythal seemed to indicate this was less severe than if the Dread Wolf had been successful she still felt responsible for is his pain. Mythal’s presence had been a shock to everyone.   
“Why are you here, Vehnon?” He whispered. “after all that I have done, why are you still here with me.”   
“A question Olga asked multiple times as well.” Lavallen smiled. “You are banished from Tevinter and it was felt that you should have a supervisor at all times. Since the Inquisition is gone, I needed a job.” She gave him a sly like.   
Solas smiled in spite of himself. “A fair jailer indeed. But where is my famed jailer going to take a social outcast?”  
“Well, a private estate in Kirkwall sounds good. Apparently I can control the harbor as well.”  
“The harbor? I suppose I can’t refuse.”  
Stand up the two began heading towards Kirkwall. 

 

 

“Exactly how much dust do you suppose it takes to become toxic?” Dorian complained as he and a still limping Mae examined banks of books sitting in Mae’s dining room.   
“Dear, I would think your delicate sensibilities would have been removed after your stay in the south.” She was leafing through pages that were on the verge of crumbling.   
“Food was horrible but the company delightful.” He wondered over to a side table under a large window  
“What are these little things?”  
“Those little things were found in the oldest part of the vaults. Archon Radonis wanted everything removed, cataloged and identified in all the vaults. It will take us months.”  
“But what are they?”  
“We don’t know, which is why they are over there. Some are selected to be sent to the university for research.”

Dorian picked up what looked like a stack of grey squares the size of books but thin. They were inlaid with what appeared to be a panel of glass and decorated with markings on the sides. On one of the sides there appeared to be a raised area. It was still warm from the sun. He ran his fingers over the markings. They were smooth but with a little give under each mark.   
“Mae, have you seen…” His finger pressed on a symbol of a round circle with a line crossing one end. The glass flashed bright as day. He gasped. Mae rushed over as words appeared across the surface.   
“Maker’s name!” She whispered. “What did you do?”  
“Nothing but it appears to be a very ancient script. Definitely pre-Tevinter. Maybe even before the joining of the tribes. What is this thing?” He flipped it over but could feel no magic or power coming from the square.  
Mae nodded and pointed at what looked to be a header. “We’ll need the librarians to help translate it but I can understand a little. I see colony and …” She furrowed her brow for a minute “reaper?”  
“What in Andraste’s name is a reaper?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Women of Thedas series:  
> “Behind the Scenes”: The mage and Templars are on the verge of war and the wardens are plagued by the Calling. The Hero of Ferelden sets of to find out why the Calling has started so suddenly and how to cure it. Through her travels, her mind wanders back to a Templar she once knew who has moved up in the world. – currently started and available 
> 
> “Family Ties”: Bethany’s life has been devastated. Between losing her home and brother she has now been stricken with the Blight. By happenstance Alistair was able to make her a warden but she resents her fate. Being assigned to her cousin’s regiment in Ferelden brings an uncomfortable relationship while Bethany discovers the Hero’s dark secret that could rock to foundation of the world. – story still in development
> 
> “The Bride of the Maker”: Andraste has spent a great deal of her life a slave. Now a free woman she screams at the gods but she never expected an answer. She may have the answers she craves but will she like where they will lead. Story of Andraste and the beginning of the Blight. – story still in development  
> “Luck or Fate.” Flemeth’s story – research in progress
> 
> “Survival at all Costs.”- The reapers have arrived and with Commander Shepard trying to build the Crucible, Admiral Hackett creates a top secret plan to ensure humanity’s survival: send several group of humans into deep space to find an uncharted colony and hope one survives. After months of searching, Bravo team finds a planet able to support life and devoid of intelligent life …or so they thought. Soon they will learn that technology is not the only power as they become embroiled in a civil war lead by the Dread Wolf. The choices made will dictate the future of human, elf, dwarf and all of Thedas. – (Mass effect X Dragon Age)- story completed and next one to be written.

**Author's Note:**

> Incase you had not guessed, the Inquisition has been disbanded and Lavellan wants to change Solas' mind.


End file.
